


Sequel Trilogy Rewrite

by kenoi131



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 72,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenoi131/pseuds/kenoi131
Summary: What if Rey had actual personality, flaws, motivations, received training, and wasn't inexplicably all-powerful? What if Finn and Poe weren't relegated to unimportant side roles? What if Luke Skywalker wasn't turned into a a parody of all things Star Wars? This fic aims to fix the myriad plot and character deficiencies of "The Force Awakens," "The Last Jedi," and "The Rise of Skywalker" in a respectful way. The overarching goal is to be positive, and create a good Star Wars story that fans can feel happy about engaging with. This is pointedly not a deconstruction of Star Wars as a whole, nor is it a vitriolic hate train dedicated to how much the Sequel Trilogy supposedly sucks. If that's what you as a prospective reader want, then look elsewhere. It simply is an alternate take on the last three movies, free of studios or executives, and with a single cohesive creative vision.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 13





	1. Awakening

He walked through the narrow streets of a sleepy little town, the sunbaked sand long having given way to night, and the people shacked up in bed to await the arrival of another day. The cool desert air swirled around him. The man adjusted his jacket, a thing of tan leather with a splash of red along the right shoulder and corrugation down the outside of each sleeve. Made more for style than function, it did little to shield him.

By his side followed a funny little droid. A BB unit to be exact, it got around by rolling on a large ball painted primarily white with orange circumscribing the six round tool discs upon it. Its head was a half-dome. Two antennas of differing lengths stuck out the back. On the front protruded one large convex lens, and one smaller round pane askew from it.

The two of them traveled with relative ease through the village. No one came to disturb them, and they bothered none all the same. Their goal was a singular pursuit, the most important in all the galaxy. There could be no distractions, lest they doom everyone to a fate neither wanted to think about.

Upon a little hill just outside town sat an isolated hut. Round at the top and barely big enough for one person to live in, it stood out from the other, more angular structures in the town.

The droid made a few noises in the low-pitched beeping and booping way it did.

"That's it, BB-8. ...I think," confirmed the man. "We're almost there."

Ascending the short summit made the diminutive home atop it seem even smaller. It had no front door, only a curtain of beads to keep out the elements. That seemed wildly inefficient for a windy desert planet, but the man kept that thought to himself.

"Stay out here, BB-8. Keep watch," he instructed. The droid protested, but followed orders. The man stepped through the beads.

There sitting on his knees in the middle of the hut was an aged fellow, hair shocked white long ago and a face more wrinkle than skin. He was gaunt and almost sick looking. The senior looked toward the sound of the rustling beads, but his glassed over eyes took in none of the detail.

"Poe Dameron," the old man spoke with a voice dry and weathered with age. "I have been expecting you."

"You're a difficult man to find, Lor San Tekka." Poe came to a stop a few feet from the entrance. He wasn't necessarily a tall man, yet he still couldn't quite stand upright within the hut.

"As it should be," said Lor San Tekka. He stood, and removed a leather pouch from a pocket inside his flowing grey robe. "I believe I have what you've come looking for."

"You do," said Poe. Lor San Tekka handed the pouch to him.

"This will begin to make things right," mused the old man. "I've traveled too far, and seen too much of what horrors this galaxy has to offer. It needs a beacon to lead it, like is has in the past."

"With this, we finally have a chance," Poe said. "The general has been looking for this a very long time."

"The General," Lor San Tekka repeated, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "To me, she's royalty."

Poe was about to respond when BB-8 came quite literally barreling in, speaking at a thousand beeps a minute. The droid language was hard enough to understand under normal circumstances, but the way BB-8 spoke just then might as well have been unintelligible.

"Slow down, BB. What is it?" Poe attempted to calm the droid. It didn't work. If anything, the beeps increased in frequency. "Never mind, I'll take a look."

This seemed to satisfy the droid, as it shut up.

Poe exited the hut and laid himself down just at the crest of the hill. He removed a looking device—really just a broken off old rifle scope—from his jacket and peered through it to the town below. There, at the opposite end, he saw a First Order transport ship land. The large, vaguely whale-shaped craft came to ground on a quartet of long landing skis. The front ramp dropped down. Poe could just barely make out the white armor and black grimaces of the stormtroopers within.

They streamed out at the same time as blaster bolts erupted from the town. A split-second later, the First Order soldiers were scattering for cover as they returned fire. Red flashes of light streaked through the air from the stormtroopers, each destined for the body of a hopeless defender. The townspeople fought back with their own bevy of more colorful ammunition. They had red of their own, of course, but also blue, yellow, and even one person firing green bolts.

Poe heard the beads clatter behind him. He propped up on an elbow and turned his head to see Lor San Tekka standing behind him, looking out over the battle as if he could see it.

"This hut is way too obvious. You have to hide," warned Poe, now sounding almost as frantic as his droid.

"And you have to get out of here. Go!"

"Not without you," insisted Poe.

"I've done my part. It's up to you, now. I can keep them occupied while you escape."

Poe looked from the old man, to the battle, and back again. He took a deep breath, and then nodded. Fast feet took him off from the hill, speeding toward the bottom.

"God speed, Poe Dameron," said Lor San Tekka before returning to his home.

At a sprint down the hill, Poe realized he had two options for what to do next. His X-wing starfighter was currently parked to his left just beyond the village limits. He could cut a path straight to it, but doing so left him completely exposed on the dunes. There would be no cover, and the well-trained soldiers of the First Order would take him apart.

On the other hand, he could go through the village. This would put him right in the thick of the fight, but it may also provide an advantage. He could get lost in the chaos, sneak out right under everyone's collective nose. And, the buildings provided him with cover from any assailing bolts which did come his way. It was the better option.

Poe threw himself down a side street, barely wide enough to fit two people abreast. The buildings helped to muffle the sounds of blaster fire and the screams of wounded men and women, the fear in their voices as they died. These people were not soldiers, yet they faced down the most fearsome fighting force in the galaxy. The First Order turned their infantry into well-oiled killing machines, the kind which specialized in this sort of slaughter. The villagers didn't stand a chance.

Poe couldn't afford to think about any of that. The plight of these people was unfortunate. Any other time, he would have tried to help them. But not now. He had more important things to worry about, no matter how it pained him to admit.

He burst through into a wider main street. Immediately, a wave of sound and heat assaulted him. There were defenders to his right up the street, engaged in a torrid exchange with a few stormtroopers. Though the plastic boys were outnumbered, their skill more than made up for it. They took no casualties, while a few of the villagers fell to red bolts.

Poe ran his way up the street several feet before finding an alleyway to dash through. He was about to reach it when a body splatted to the ground before him. He jumped back a step and pointed his blaster rifle at it, before he saw the target was not a stormtrooper. Instead, a deceased Rodian man lay at his feet. In the alien's hands, an elegant blaster clearly of Nabooan design. This must've been the guy with the green bolts. His death meant the villagers just lost their sniper.

The alley was short. As such, Poe crossed it in no time at all. This led him to another main road, this one with more defenders than the last. A bolt crossed just inches shy of searing his nose. He stopped short, with a look at the battle. Doing so gave him just enough time to duck another missed shot. Poe kept his head down as he crossed this street.

Another small thoroughfare gave him a second's reprieve. He took a half step out the other side of it before tucking back in. A pair of stormtroopers ran by, likely on their way to flank the position he'd just blazed through. Not on his watch. Poe popped out. Using the houses for cover, he shouldered his rifle and fired. One crackling blue bolt hit the left stormtrooper in the back of the head. His buddy reacted to the shot before a trio found his backplate. Poe gave them a moment to stir, but when neither moved, he carried on, glad to have been of at least some help.

Man and droid dashed through a trio of streets, taking roundabout paths through buildings and alleys to remain protected. The fourth street they came upon was more heavily contested than the others thus far. Defenders clogged the streets while troopers used cover to blast away at them. One stormie pulled out a heavy rotary blaster and took an elevated position atop a ruined speeder. He began cutting down defenders. His exposed spot saw him swiftly dealt with, but not before taking many a villager with him.

Through this and the next, and on to the last one. Just one more through street, now, and he'd be clear of the village. The last road, just like all the others, played host to a firefight. Poe darted across it, red blaster fire whizzing by him in every which direction. He glanced at the battle to see, unsurprisingly, that the First Order had the upper hand. As he made it to the final building in his way, one of the troopers seemed to lock eyes with him, though it was hard to tell underneath that helmet. Poe cursed under his breath. So close, only to be spotted at the last second. No time to stop and fight now. He had to press forward.

"Come on, BB-8, hurry!" Poe shouted as he crested the hill where his X-wing sat. The droid chirped behind him.

BB-8 slipped under the needle-point nose of the starfighter to be hauled up into the astromech socket just behind the cockpit. Poe, in one fluid motion, opened up his pilot's seat, hopped in, and closed canopy. Deft fingers flicked many switches. Lights all around him flared to life. The slow whine of the engines coming to life rattled the ship.

A burst of blaster fire splashed against the canopy. Poe winced instinctively and ducked his head down, though the fighter-grade glass protected him. When his eyes opened, they beheld a pair of stormtroopers opening up on the craft. They seemed to realize it was impossible to shoot through the glass, and instead targeted the hull. BB-8 gave a long series of alarmed beeps.

"Yeah, I see them!" Poe called back.

He flipped another switch. A heavy blaster dropped down from just beneath the fighter's rear. Poe took his control stick and pressed the button on top. The blaster swung around to point forward and unleash a rapid salvo of red blaster fire toward the troopers. They realized at the last second their perilous predicament, but it was far too late to run. They were cut down in a matter of seconds.

Poe brought the blaster back up into its nook. The startup sequence should have completed by now. He flipped the ignition but, instead of a satisfying roar, all he got was a rough rattling sputter. Hesitation, and then repeated attempts all yielded the same result.

"No, no, no, no," the pilot begged. A final try failed to light the fuel.

With frustration, he slammed the canopy release. Poe exited his craft and jogged around to the back. One of the bolts had passed right through the protective vent cover of the top right engine and eradicated the components beneath.

"This is bad," he despaired.

Poe put his hands on his head and walked away for a second. He looked over his shoulder to see a second ship landing. It's two low angled wings folded upward as the shuttle came down. Poe didn't know for certain who was on it, but he had two guesses, neither of them good.

He rushed back with a new resolve on his face. He lowered BB-8 from his position. The droid looked at him with a confused beep. Poe dropped down to one knee. From the leather pouch the old man had given him he produced a small obelisk of mottled green from it and, before the droid could protest, slipped the object into an unoccupied data slot.

"New plan, BB-8. I need you to take this and get as far away from here as you can."

The droid looked down at its now closed data slot, and then back up at Poe. It gave a sequence of beeps which sounded disturbingly like "I don't wanna go."

"This data has to make it to The Resistance, no matter what. It's okay, I'll come back for you."

BB-8 hesitated a moment longer before turning to roll away from the battle, and his best friend. Poe watched the droid leave until it was out of sight on the other side of the hill. He took a deep breath. Hefting his blatster rifle, the stranded pilot took cover behind some rocks overlooking the village. He opened fire on the stormtroopers below, for what good it did.

…

In the village, the battle raged on. There was still plenty of action to go around, but the diminished screams and distinctly lowered rate of fire signaled the waning moments of the operation.

A stormtrooper raced down one of the main streets, headed for their next objective through an otherwise clear street. At the end, flametroopers were gathering up what few surviving villagers remained.

To his right, an old friend. Troopers didn't really forge alliances, as they knew their time together would be short, but he couldn't help it. These two had come up together, risen through the ranks as part of the same training squad. How could they not be friends? Troopers FN-2003 and FN-2187, brothers for life.

Little did 2187 know, that bond would be cut short. A blue streak illuminated the skies. A moment later, FN-2003 dropped. FN-2187 stopped in his tracks. He knelt down beside his wounded comrade. Though their helmets betrayed no emotion, his friend still managed to look terrified. Maybe it was the tremble in the bloody gauntlet he raised. He attempted to cradle FN-2187's cheek in a final act of solidarity, but in his weakness missed the mark. Instead, he left a trio of red streaks down the trooper's face plate. He then shuttered no more.

FN-2187 stood, his mind reeling. Training had taught him what to do in this situation, how to act when a comrade fell in battle. None of that mattered. He recalled none of it. All he could do was stand there and hyperventilate, starring down at the body of his deceased companion.

A nearby shuttle landing drew his attention. A boarding ramp lowered down, and from it strode a figure that struck fear into his heart. This man wore a black helmet with several silver rings around the eye slot and up the forehead, beneath a dark hood. He wore long black robes, split on the right leg for ease of movement. A wide belt kept all of this in place, while matching trousers and boots protected his lower half. FN-2187 just stood there, frozen in place, as the Sith Lord Kylo Ren approached him.

"Trooper!" A sergeant attempted to get his attention. He looked at his superior, still in a daze. "With me, come on."

The sergeant began marching toward the rounded up villagers. 2187 sparred one final glance for what was left of his friend before running off to follow orders, just like a good soldier should.

He joined up with a small group of fellow troopers who had managed to encircle what looked like most of the remaining villagers. The only thing which betrayed this was not all of them was the occasional burst of blaster fire as his companions not present rooted out the stragglers.

Kylo Ren, accompanied by a pair of red armored troopers, passed through the line corralling in the villagers. He walked right by FN-2187, who tried not to stare as his very own commander was temporarily within spitting distance. He had never been so close.

As Ren approached the villagers, an old man emerged from the throng to greet him. If the briefing was correct, this would be Lor San Tekka. 2187 begged for the man not to try anything stupid, but when the dangerous Sith Lord didn't strike him down immediately, the trooper decided to listen instead.

"Look what age has done to you," Kylo menaced, his voice turned unnaturally low and distorted by the helmet he wore.

"It has done something far worse to you," said the old man.

"You know why I'm here." Kylo pushed past the insult.

"And you know I can't let you have it," insisted Lor San Tekka.

"The map to Skywalker. Give it to me, and I might spare your life."

The old man folded his hands inside the sleeves of his robe. "I will not aid the Dark Side. Not all of us have given up hope."

"Hope," Ren wondered aloud. "What a feeble concept."

The Sith removed something from his belt, a short black T shape. FN-2187 realized what it must be a second before it came to life. A red blade projected out of the top. Roughly three feet in length, it pulsed with unstable energy, appearing at the same time both jagged and unblemished. Two additional bits flared out from the perpendicular points of the T, these only a few inches long.

"You can either give me the map, or I can take it off your corpse. Your choice." Ren offered his ultimatum.

"I will not aid the Dark Side." The old man was obviously making a point to avoid looking at the weapon brandished before him.

"What you will or won't do is irrelevant. The Force will consume all. Let me show you."

Kylo Ren gave his lightsaber a twirl before cranking through a swing from the left. The old man's head separated from his lifeless body. It bounced once off the hard sand and the rolled away. So ended the life of Lor San Tekka.

Ren seemed about to give an order, when a shout cut him off. A man in a brown flight jacket broke from the houses, firing blue bolts at the hooded Sith. Without bothering to look, Kylo threw a hand out behind him. The bolts seemed to hit a wall, where they stopped in midair. One after another they hit, suspended by some unseen nature. The new attacker also stopped, taken by the same effect but further back from his failed projectiles.

"Search the body," Kylo Ren said. "And the village." He dropped his hand. The bolts stayed in place. "And bring that one to me."

A pair of stormtroopers went after the frozen man, while a trio poured over the headless body. The duo disarmed the man and took his knees out from under him. When this happened, he gained control of his facilities, though not long enough to keep himself from being handcuffed. Hands behind his back, he refused to be led forward. A final act of defiance. In lieu of that, the troopers simply dragged him over to Kylo Ren, past where the bolts hung in place.

"Freaky," commented the man.

"I know, right? He does that kind of thing all the time," the trooper on his left said.

"Can it, both of you," said the one on his left.

The man was brought before Kylo Ren and then pushed onto his knees. The looming threat in all black knelt down to be on the same level as his captive. There was silence for a moment, just long enough for FN-2187 to wonder what was happening.

"So, how does this work? I talk first? You talk first?" The man asked.

"The map. He gave it to you," Kylo said.

"What, did the Force tell you that?" Quipped the man.

"No, it's written all over your face," denied the Sith Lord.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You will." Kylo stood. "Put him on my ship, and then prepare him for questioning."

The troopers began leading the man away, Kylo a few steps behind.

"Sir, what about the prisoners?" A caped stormtrooper clad in chrome armor asked him.

"No prisoners, Captain Phasma."

"Of course, sir." Phasma joined in with her troopers. "Soldiers, present!"

The men of the First Order raised their weapons toward the villagers. 2187 looked to his left, and then his right, before doing the same a moment later.

The order came. "Fire!'

All around him, red lights illuminated the nighttime sand. Every trooper opened up on the helpless villagers. Except for FN-2187. He kept his blaster raised, but did not pull the trigger. As the men, women, and children died before him, he couldn't bring himself to contributed their destruction. All he managed was to stand there and watch the slaughter, powerless to help them.

What few seconds the massacre lasted felt like an hour. When it was over, 2187 lowered his weapon just like the others. Maybe, if he acted like he'd followed the order, no one would suspect he didn't.

A tingle in the back of his head shattered any notion of escape. He turned toward the feeling to see Kylo Ren staring straight at him. They exchanged glares for a moment before the Lord continued on to his ship.

"Spread out and search," Phasma ordered.

FN-2187 was about to follow this directive, when the bolts in the air sprang to life once again. They peppered the home behind where Kylo Ren had been standing. 2187 jumped back a full foot in shocked surprise. He watched the bolts go, marveling at the power which previously held them back. Would he be a victim of it soon? As he went to search the town, his gut told him yes.

The village was searched to confirm that the objective was not there. Their business concluded, the First Order got back on their transport ships and headed for the destroyer above. FN-2187 made sure to position himself toward the disembarking ramp.

When the shuttle landed, he was the first one off. He ignored the hundreds of TIE fighters—their bulbous cockpits flanked by solar panels of elongated hexagons—both on the massive hanger deck and hanging from the ceiling. He bypassed mechanics welding on bits of machinery, officers and troopers speaking to one another in little clusters, droids milling about their daily routines. All about the hanger was a flurry of motion. Hundreds of people walked through it on their way to whatever it was they were doing. FN-2187 tried his best to look like one of them.

He eventually made it to a corridor on the far end of the hanger. It was narrow and bathed in red light. A few deep breaths, and he removed his helmet. Sweat poured down his dark skin. Taking the apparatus off did nothing to make him feel cooler, nor was it more comfortable. Instead, it just made the world around him that much louder. This was not a comforting place. He needed somewhere quiet to process what just happened, to grieve the loss of his friend, to think about his predicament.

But fate stalls for no man. He wanted to maybe find somewhere far away and await the inevitable. Instead, the inevitable found him.

"FN-2187," called the voice of Captan Phasma behind him. "Submit your blaster for evaluation."

"Yes, Captain." He couldn't bear to look at her, so he instead starred straight ahead.

"And who gave you permission to take off that helmet?"

"Sorry, Captain."

"Report to my division at once. We need to have a word." With that Phasma marched past him.

FN-2187 kept his gaze locked forward until the moment his superior vanished around a corner. His entire body sagged. He spun a quarter turn to collide against the wall now at his back, the only thing keeping him upright. A deep breath. He wiped some sweat from his forehead, replaced his helmet, and let his blaster slink to the floor. Its clatter sounded like the end of his life as he knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should come as no surprise I have little problem with the beginning of this movie. Read chapter 2 (posted in tandem with this one) to see the first plot and character changes.
> 
> A lot of people are unhappy with the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, myself included, though I don't think I hate it quite as much as some of the more toxic people. The complaints are many, but most boil down to three things: a poor plot, and badly written characters, all created in service of a political agenda. My rewrite will attempt to fix these problems while also expanding upon the Star Wars universe in a positive way. I promise I'm not coming at this from a place of negativity nor hatred. 
> 
> As stated in the summary, positivity is the goal. When Star Wars fans are given good Star Wars, they are more than happy to sing its praises. This is nowhere more apparent than with The Mandalorian and The Clone Wars. That's what I'm trying to do with these rewrites. I want to create good Star Wars content that fans can be happy to engage with. I hope that is an end I can achieve through my storytelling.
> 
> Having said all that, I'm extremely hesitant to post this here. I know the Sequel Trilogy fandom is much more deeply rooted in AO3 than on other fiction hosting sites. I'm not one of those raging manbabies making hour-long videos about how much the new Star Wars sucks. I don't like them any more than you do. I'm being sincere when I talk about my dedication to positivity. The overarching themes of Star Wars are hope and love. I intend to honor them.


	2. A Simple Girl

Light shone in through gaps in the hull of a wrecked old starship. The gutted remains, once to the highest of standards, were now pitted to a far cry of the lustrous sheen they used to possess. As was the fate of everything on Jakku, to be beaten by the sun and sand until nothing of value remained. The structures, the objects, the people, all were subject so such punishment. The desert sparred few, and gave quarter to none. Those brave—and, by extension, stupid—enough to live in it were some of the most stubborn in the galaxy, both to their credit and against it.

One such person, a woman wrapped head to toe in protective cloth in various shades of tan, repelled down the interior. She contacted the side with both her feet and then kicked off to slide a little further down a long rope. Since this wreck was almost perfectly on its side, what she actually pushed against was the floor. It was strange, but put her feet on a floor and move across it without actually walking. These little humors were what made Rey's life as a scavenger bearable. Well, that and the cool salvage she tended to find.

Fusion cutter in hand, she began the tedious process of removing components from where a panel had fallen away. Yellow sparks flew and the cutter arced against metal. She'd actually noticed this particular spot a day ago, but hadn't the cargo space available to bother taking from it. Thankfully, most folks weren't willing to travel this far out into the desolation. There was little to no trouble of someone getting to it first.

When finished, Rey removed a long metal cylinder, wide with domed caps fastened to each end. She didn't know what purpose it actually served, nor did she care. Anything what wasn't scrap metal could be turned in for some profit, and even scrap metal itself could be of value to the right vendor. The particular person she worked for, though, wasn't interested in that sort of thing, so she stuck to components and generally anything which looked like it may have been important at one point.

With a rudimentary inspection followed by a smile, Rey put the cylinder in the tote bag hanging from her left shoulder. Afterward, she continued down the expanse. The major downside to hanging from a rope was it didn't offer much in the way of lateral movement, not when she usually needed both hands to remove stuff from the ship.

If there were anything which annoyed her most about her job, it would be that: The need to climb all the way up whatever she was working on, just to get one or two things and go all the way back down. At least this gap in the floor provided her with a total of three objects. In addition to the cylinder, Rey also recovered a wide black box of some sort, and a tube that looked like it may have once been for water filtration. Of course, she'd never actually been on an old Imperial Star Destroyer before, so what did she know?

Eventually, Rey made it to the ground, which was actually one of the sides. Port or starboard, she couldn't tell which for, again, having never actually been on a working ship. As she looked up at the sky from missing hull pieces, the young woman couldn't help but wonder what these walls had seen. The craft was impossibly large, bigger than some rural villages. What could the folks on such a vessel possibly do with their time. Did they stand around complaining about the _rebel scum_? Did they have family or friends? Or did they just spend every waking hour working?

The First Order made service in their navy sound like one big adventure, but Rey wasn't so sure. It would be amazing to travel space, absolutely, but she didn't want to spend any amount of time cooped up on a ship she wasn't allowed to leave. The potential lack of freedom seemed, to her, like the absolute worse thing in the world.

The other end of the destroyer was a damned long ways away. She _really_ didn't feel like climbing up the exterior again, not an a day scorching as this one. But, most of the good stuff was in hard to reach places, since people who scavenged this wreck before couldn't be bothered to go for them. With a sigh, she turned to exit though a nearby hole.

Rey only made it a few feet before traipsing over something hollow. A specific spot on the floor made a metallic clang beneath her shoes. She stopped in her tracks to round on the spot. With a quizzical eyebrow raised, she gave the floor a good stomp. The same sound told her all she needed to know. There was something there. The only way to find out if it was worth anything was to work.

To that end, Rey got down on her hands an knees to cut a large square in the floor. It was a difficult and backbreaking task that took her far too long. Since the metal here was understandably thick, she had to make a few passes with her tool to actually get through it.

When she finally got the piece removed, she slipped her hands underneath to remove it and... it wasn't going anywhere. A product of her profession, Rey considered herself pretty strong for a girl her size. Even still, navy-grade metal was made to be dense and durable. Even little pieces like this could be hard to move around. She let go and sat down for a second, staring at the task before her.

No, she _refused_ to be defeated by an inanimate object, especially when she'd just spent so much time getting it loose. She wedged the tube recovered earlier into the channel created by her fusion cutter. With both hand, Rey put all of her weight—which, in fairness, wasn't much—on the makeshift lever. Slowly but surely, the panel rose up. When it was was high enough to get both hands under, Rey grabbed it and gave an almighty tug. With a grating squeal the piece slid out to rest its edge on the stable ground. It took several big pulls more, but eventually Rey managed to move it aside.

What she found beneath it was unfortunately disappointing. This portion of the ship had taken some damage, either in battle or in the crash. The entire planetward side probably did. There were a few bits and bobs to be found, but most of what used to be there had been shredded long ago. With a deep breath, Rey got to work. What an utter waste of time.

After a bit more scavenging, Rey knew the sun would soon be low in the sky. The only thing worse than traveling the wastes of Jakku during the day, was traveling them at night. That was when all the big creatures and bad people came out. There were also big creatures and bad people during the day, of course, but far less of them. She made one final pull, and then brought the last haul to her speeder waiting just outside.

The vehicle was a boxy thing, neither the sleek bikes built for speed, nor the fancy models rich people drove around in. Much taller than wide, it was basically a rectangle with the edges rounded off. About a quarter of the way back it tapered down to accommodate a seat and a small back fin for stabilization. The innards here were exposed, something Rey suspected was _not_ supposed to be. The thing reminded her a lot of an old starfighter engine retrofitted to become a land vehicle.

She had managed long ago to weld a metal bar to the left side, from which hung a black net. Rey wasn't much of a welder, so the work was rather ugly. A few good shakes emptied her pack onto the pile of whatever already occupied the net. When all was said and done, the pieces barely made it bulge. Not her best haul by a longshot, but it got the job done. Hopefully, anyway.

Satisfied as she could be with the day's effort, she mounted her steed and drove off. The thing had a low rumbling engine with an almighty tick. Rey honestly didn't know much about the origins of her trusty speeder, but she didn't care. It was slow, strong, and more than adequate for a scavenger. That was all she needed.

Cruising through the endless expanses of Jakku, a long mesa to her right, brought Rey past many more a wrecked starship. Long ago, before she was born (but not actually that long ago), this planet had played host to the final battle between the Rebellion and the Galactic Empire. The rebels were victorious, and the New Republic formed shortly after. Fat lot of good it did them, though, considering the First Order rose from the ashes shortly after. In the wake of all this, a forgotten planetary desert became littered with the trash of a bygone era. Thus, Jakku became a haven for scavengers, merchants, and criminals. Often, a successful life there required switching between the three depending on the circumstances.

The long journey saw her arrival to Niima Outpost, a town and trading hub for scavengers in this part of the planet. Though _town_ may have been a bit generous. It was really little more than a few scattered housing clusters an a big pagoda outside a large fenced-in junkyard. Rey headed for the pagoda, parking her speeder a few dozen feet away from it. There was not real designated parking area, so she just sort of left it there.

Dismounting the vehicle always proved a process. Rey was a bit on the tall side for a human woman, yet she doubted the speeder had been made for her species. The only effective way she'd found to get off it without risking a fall was to swing her right leg over and use the momentum to carry her off. Proably not the most graceful way of doing things, but what other options were there?

Once on the ground, she took the wrappings and goggles off her head. The slow process revealed hazel eyes, fair skin, long brown hair done up in a ponytail affixed thrice to her head, and a somewhat strong jaw. Many of the men (and several women) at the outpost had told her she was pretty, but she hardly believed them.

Rey removed the net from its home aside her speeder, wrapped up the bounty within, and hauled it into the tent. This pagoda served as the place for scavengers to offload their finds and be paid for it. As such, it had several long picnic tables for purveyors to rest and socialize. Rey hardly used them, though. They weren't always the nicest lot, so she preferred to get paid and leave.

Not everyone agreed, however. Each time she came here, no matter the time or weather, there were always people filling the tables. Closer to the galactic core the majority of citizens were humans and other fair races. Not so much in the Hutt-forsaken middle of nowhere. Big mouthed Ugnaughts conversed with big headed Duros. Native Teedos talked at eye-level with Jawas. Gran, and Weequay, and Falleen, and Dybrinthe all shared the same space without being at each other's throats. If there were one thing Rey actually enjoyed about living on Jakku, it was this. Free from the expectations of civilized society, people could be whoever they wanted. It was beautiful, and the only good thing about the planet.

In the center of all this stood a little concession stand. While it did sell food and drink, its main purpose was as the place for scavengers to receive payment. Rey brought her net around the back. An employee, a fellow human, waited for her. She gave him a smile as she approached.

"Good haul today, Rey?" He said when she was close enough to be called to.

"Not really, I'm afraid," she called back.

"Sorry to hear that," the employee said. He waited until she were closer to carry on. "Still working on that same old Star Destroyer?"

"Yeah, but I think it's time to move on," Rey said. "It's pretty much gutted, by now." She handed the net off to him.

"I assumed as much." The man took her net. "Well, you know the drill. Go see the big man and he'll decide how much this is all worth."

"Sure. Thanks, Jek." She said. The man waved to her as she walked away.

Around the front of the stand, Rey got in line behind a grimy Dug, who gave her a cursory glance but said nothing. The line progressed at a reasonable pace. Most people elected to get their spoils and leave quickly, rather than stay and socialize with the _big man_. When Rey made it to the window, she remembered why.

Behind the counter stood a towering alien. A heavy brow, a nasal ridge all the way up his scalp, and a constant frown in his fat jowls, he wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes. Indeed, he often caused them. His smell didn't help matters, either. But, Unkar Plutt was the man in charge. Like it or not, they were all stuck with him.

"Hi, Unkar," she said in her best attempt at cordiality.

"Rey," he rumbled. "For what you brought me today I'll give you..." he thought for a moment. "One portion."

Plutt slapped a plastic package onto the counter. It was a hexagon. One half contained six pieces of green meat, while the other had a white powder flecked with black seeds. Rey took it with a grimace. She thought her haul was worth more, but had learned long ago how useless it was to argue. Niima Outpost was controlled the the Hutts, the greediest slugs in the galaxy. If you didn't like their price, then they had either a beating or a blaster waiting for you. A few boots to the face were all it took for Rey—and everyone else—to learn their place. Unkar Plutt never paid fairly, end of discussion.

Rey departed so the Twilek behind her could collect his portions. She made it a few steps away before she found someone who instantly replaced her scowl with a big grin. Rey walked over to a table not far from the concession stand, where a single woman worked scrubbing away at some mechanical parts. Most people gave her a wide berth so she could toil in peace. Not Rey, though. The girl walked right up.

"Hi, Ashla!" she said.

Ashla seemed surprised at having her name called. She stopped what she was doing to look around for a second before finding the source.

"Oh," she smiled. "Hello, Rey."

Rey sat down across the table from Ashla. Without asking, she reached into Ashla's bucket, grabbed the spare brush, and began helping her clean the parts. Ashla was not a scavenger, but one of two mechanics employed by the Hutts for Niima. This explained why she cleaned the parts, as doing so wasn't necessary to turn them in. The only reason to bother cleaning them was if she planned on using them.

Rey met Ashla's blue eyes for a moment. She had orange skin with elegant white markings on her brow, forehead, and cheekbones. Horns called montrals stretched up from the top of her head, while tails called lekku framed her face. Rey knew she had a third head tail running all the way down her back, but she couldn't see it through the brown poncho Ashla wore. The lekku and montrals were covered by stark white skin with uneven blue stripes which spiraled downward.

Ashla looked good for a woman of seventy. Other than some lines on her forehead and around her mouth, her skin was mostly smooth. Still spry and full of energy, she had no trouble keeping up with the much younger folks around her. Rey never would have guessed she was a day over fifty, and even that was pushing it. Perhaps it was her Togruta nature? Rey had no idea how other species aged.

"How are you?" Rey asked as she worked on what looked like it used to be a big spark plug.

"I'm good. Busy, but good," responded Ashla. She had a gentle voice, a little bit high pitched and breathy, with undertones of that strained grit old people tended to have. "How about you? Still working on that Star Destroyer?"

"For what good it does me," Rey said. She placed the spark plug in Ashla's _clean_ pile and pulled another component from the bucket. "I think it's been mostly wiped out. I hardly found anything worthwhile today."

"I told you to abandon it," Ashla said. "There's plenty more scrap to be had."

"That you did," admitted Rey. "I think I will either tomorrow or the next day. You said you were busy?"

Ashla gave an annoyed sigh. "Yes. Remember how I told you that I scolded Aayron for overreving his speeder?" She waited for Rey to nod before continuing. "And how I warned him he'd blow the repulsor if he kept it up? Well, guess what."

"He blew the repulsor?" Rey guessed.

"He blew the repulsor! Just the anti-grav generator, but still. So now I have to build an entirely new one, from scratch, using this junk." For emphasis, Ashla tossed what she'd been working on into her _clean_ pile.

Ashla usually didn't complain like this. Most of the time, she was the picture of calm. Rey could count on one hand the amount of times she'd ever seen the older woman so riled up. She must've been extremely annoyed to reach this point. As a good friend, Rey knew she had to say something to at least try and raise her spirits.

"Looks like we're both having bad days," Rey said, and internally cringed. That, most certainly, was _not_ the right thing to say. Her day didn't really compare to Ashla's.

"I guess we are," Ashla said with a smile. "You know what they say: Misery loves company."

"Sorry you're having such a rough time, Ashla," offered Rey. Much better.

"It's alright. I'm used to fixing messes for these guys. And, talking to you makes me feel better." Ashla paused. "Do you have any plans for what to do after the Star Destroyer?"

Rey knew Ashla was playing for time, attempting to keep the conversation on for her own sake. The human girl was happy to oblige, to help her friend get through these trying times. Luckily, she _did_ have plans.

"Yeah, I have a few ideas," Rey began. "There's an old Corellian Corvette that looks like it hasn't been touched in a while. I know that could mean it's gutted, or it could've just been abandoned. There's also an Imperial shuttle, one of the long ones, you know?"

"I'm familiar," Ashla said with a chuckle.

"There might be some old blasters or some stormtrooper bits in there. I know it's a longshot, but they'd fetch a good price."

"You might even get some credits."

"That would be nice," mused Rey. They usually didn't get real money, only food.

They talked for about an hour until Ashla finished with the first part of her long repair task. Rey wished her good luck and then took off on her speeder, destined for home.

Home, in this instance, happened to be a fallen Imperial AT-AT walker, defeated and abandoned after the Battle of Jakku. It lay on one side half buried in the sand, wind and time having blown the particulate all over and around it.

Rey parked her speeder through a curtain in the back of the former weapon of war. The vehicle barely fit, and wouldn't if the walker still had its weapon racks. The thing had been looted by someone else long ago, left to rot in the sun. But, nothing ever went to waste in the desert. To say nothing else of the people on Jakku, they were at least resourceful.

She pulled the curtain closed and then quickly walked around the other side of the compartment to check on her power batteries. They were how she and Ashla met, actually. Rey had known about the mechanic for a while, but never had much occasion to talk to her until she found the AT-AT. Its reserve power system was intact, but long depleted. Rey asked about it, and later that day Ashla came by with the wing of an old TIE fighter, which she turned into a rudimentary solar panel. Ashla, of course, refused payment, saying to help others was the right thing to do. They'd been friends ever since.

Long planetary days meant the batteries were always full. Satisfied with her power readouts, Rey moved into her living room, the former troop compartment. She flipped on the cabin lights, only about half of which still worked. Against the far wall from the entrance hatch in its belly, Rey had placed a couch made from a couple seats ripped from the cockpit and covered with a thick canvas tarp. A coffee table made from scrap metal sat before it. Behind, a pair of long shelves were cut into the central support pillar. These shelves were mostly barren, save for a few old books, a handmade doll, and a well cared for orange flower.

The first order of business was food. To that end, she moved into a closet constructed over where the front leg joint was. Inside were three barrels of water. She used a pitcher found within to fish out a bit of the clear liquid before going back to the main room. Rey tossed the portion she'd earned from Niima onto the coffee table. Before eating it, she gave a bit of nourishment to the flower. A stroke of the waxy petals confirmed it was still in good condition. Rey smiled. As far as this scavenger knew, she had one of the only healthy flowers this side of the Goazon Badlands.

If split in two, a single portion could be made into a pair of meals. That would leave her a bit hungry, but it made more sense than eating the whole thing all at once. Rey gathered a bowl from the shelf. Using her teeth, she opened up the white powder, a grimace for what little of the bitter substance made it onto her tongue. About half of it was poured into the bowl, followed by a bit of water. Within seconds, the powder bloomed into an odd round loaf of bread. Steam emanated from the exothermic reaction.

It would be too hot to eat for a while, so instead Rey moved on to the green wedges in the second part of the portion. They were opened up in the same way. She took out three and nestled them in next to the bread. A few minutes of warming up next to the hot bread, and she bit into one. Veg-meat, as it was called, had a balanced amount of protein, vitamins, minerals, and sugar. It had been originally intended as Imperial soldier rations before Unkar got his hands on them. They tasted of chemicals, but not entire unpleasant, and were far more satisfying than their size may suggest. The bread was doughy and mostly flavorless.

After eating, with what little light remained, Rey gathered up her staff, and a book, and went outside. One of the first finds she ever made as a scavenger had been the remains of a badly damaged AT-ST. It hadn't much left to it at the time, but the heavy canon was intact. She cut off the gun's barrel, hollowed it out, and turned it into a trusty weapon. It went with her everywhere.

Behind the head of her walker home were set up three dummies, old stormtrooper armor set upon metal crosses. Rey propped the book up against the AT-AT and then squared up with the rightmost mannequin. She held her staff with the back end just above her left hip, fore end pointed at the target's head.

In a sudden flurry of motion, Rey lashed out. She hit laterally with her staff's front end, quickly followed with the back end, and then brought the former down in a vicious chop. These motions repeated a few times until she felt comfortable with them.

Next, she opened with the back end to the face, twirled the staff around to strike with the front from the same direction, hit low on the opposite kidney with the same, and finally popped the back end straight upward. Doing so unseated the helmet. It rolled lazily across the sand. Rey jogged after the thing to put it back in place.

She went through the same attack sequence. This time, the helmet sailed straight up in the air. Rey positioned herself to catch it, arms held out wide. She dropped her staff for additional control. The helmet fell straight into her waiting arms to be replaced yet again.

Feeling confident and sufficiently warmed up, Rey went for something a bit more complex. She swung from backhand from left to right with the fore end, spun it around her head, then chopped diagonally down from the same direction with one hand. This put her into a low stance with the staff held behind her back on the right. She swiped upward and spun, grabbed the weapon with both hands, then struck upward twice, fore end then back end. She held the staff in place against the dummy's side for a second, ponderous.

"No, wait, that's not right." She stepped back to reset. "Let's try..."

Rey repeated the same first set of motions, the left side swings and the spin—but after the following upward strike she hesitated.

"Up then... down?" She struck the dummy in the shoulder with the back end. "No, that's wrong, too. How's it go again?"

Clearly, a review was in order. She walked away from the dummy for a second to pick up the tome from against the AT-AT. Rey quickly flipped through the pages. Row after row of fighting instructions filled the yellowed old paper. There were a variety of options available, everything from shock batons, to vibroswords, knives, and unarmed. Every weapon had it's own section, within which were illustrations of moves and katas, with text descriptions for each. From what she understood, Imperial royal guards used books like this for training, which explained why it was on the planet at all.

Rey found the section for staves and rifled through it until she found the sequence she'd been trying to complete. A few seconds of studying it passed before she picked up her weapon and got in position to try again.

The scavenger swung laterally from the left, then diagonally with one hand. She struck up and spun, but this time twirled the weapon as she went around. A trio of upward blows sang out right-left-right, each falling without a break in the twirl. She used the momentum from the last blow to transition into a high guard, staff held parallel, even with her forehead. She jabbed with the back end before ripping the fore end down from the right hard as she could. The old stormtrooper helmet came off again to roll lazily across the sand.

"Yes!" Rey exclaimed under her breath. She celebrated the victory with a low fist pump and a little half turn. "Oh, that's a _fun_ one." She recovered the helmet to continue with her practice.

When training was complete, Rey finished her night as she always did, with a bath followed by a bit of studying. She sat on her couch and cracked open a book. This was one she'd found in her AT-AT, stashed in a little cubby in the cockpit. The _Imperial Soldier's Brush Survival Guide_ , provided exactly what it said on the cover. Everything from finding water, to hunting, to conversing with locals had a place in the manual. Rey couldn't count the times advice from this book had saved her life. So, despite the fact she'd read it hundreds of times over, she still took some time each day to study it. Knowledge was power, and power was _everything_ in the wastes.

When all studied out and with the night well past fallen, Rey turned off all her lights except a little lamp and laid down in her hammock. Not her best day, but _certainly_ not the worst. After a good rest, she would be back at it again the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: Here we see a new character, and a much more cheerful Rey. I based her both off of Daisy Ridley herself, and also the Galaxy's Edge portrayal of the character, which is much happier and friendlier than the movie counterpart to accommodate the young audience in the park. Plot alterations will be coming soon. As I said, I don't have much of an issue with the very beginning of The Force Awakens. The introductory chapters will mostly focus on fixing the characters and setting up the second and third acts. Don't worry, I have a plan.


	3. Old Enemies, New Friends

He didn't quite sleep. No, that would be too generous a term for whatever he did. His eyes closed and body relaxed, sure, but the mind remained semi-conscious. The world around him felt surreal, as if he weren't really there. In this dream state, he almost couldn't feel the cuts on his face, the broken ribs, the manacles tying him to the metal chair. Maybe that was why he defaulted to it. He couldn't quite sleep, no, but the next best thing made his situation bearable.

The hiss of a door opening alerted him to a new presence within his little octagonal room. His eyes fluttered open to see a man, average height and lanky, enter. He wore a First Order officer's hat atop auburn hair. He didn't recognize this new arrival, but the insignia on his arm gave away his position. The man picked up a datapad from a little table left of the door.

"I'm impressed, Mr. Dameron. Most people only last a few hours under First Order interrogation, but you've made it three whole days." He put down the datapad. "That's nothing to scoff at."

"Don't you have important _General things_ to do?" Poe quipped.

"And still with your sense of humor, I see." The general walked over to the other side of the room, where he stood staring at something on the wall. "But, you see, our mission here is the retrieval of the map piece. To that end, speaking with you is an _important general thing_."

"Map piece?" Poe did his best attempt at raising an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The general hummed under his breath. "Of course you don't. He's coming back, you know," he said. Despite his best efforts, Poe couldn't keep the fear off of his face. "Personally, I find his methods a bit barbaric, but you can't deny their efficacy. I can save you from him. I can make all of the pain stop. All you have to do, is give me what I want." The general stood in front of Poe. He stooped down to meet his eyes. "Where is the map?"

Poe hesitated. He had to admit, the general drove a hard bargain. To put an end to the torture, even if it meant they would kill him immediately afterward, sounded like the sweetest of propositions. All he had to do was doom the entire galaxy, and possibly the universe, to totalitarian rule under a ruthless and oppressive dictatorship. That he even considered it for a second left a pit in his stomach.

"Never heard of it." If the Resistance failed and the New Republic fell, it would not be his doing.

The general frowned, a growl in the back of his throat. "Have it your way, then."

As if he'd planned it, which he very well may have, the door opened again. Poe felt every muscle in his body tense up. He sat back in the chair as his feet skittered against the ground, a vain attempt to escape the encroaching figure of Kylo Ren.

The Sith Lord, without a word, slunk right up to Poe. He bent down until the ghostly visage of his mask hovered inches before Dameron's face. The pilot pushed back into the chair trying to sink into its metal backing. Kylo simply remained stone still, peering through emotionless black lenses at the man squirming beneath his gaze. There they remained, victim and oppressor, locked in a duel of wills, one Poe lost the moment his horror entered the room.

"General Hux," Kylo said after what felt like an eternity. He stood, but did not look away from his prisoner. "What are you doing here?"

"Just prepping the prisoner, Sir," said the general. "But, I'll get out of your hair."

"Stay, if you want. There's nothing here you can't see," offered Kylo.

Armitage Hux gave Poe a very pointed glare. "I'd rather not, if it's all the same. I have many other things that need my attention."

"Very well. You are dismissed."

Poe watched the general leave with panic in his wide stare. He silently implored the man to stay, as if an audience would somehow tempter Kylo Ren's rage. The logical part of Poe knew this to be far from the truth, but his addled mind clung to it as a singular burning sense of hope. This fire extinguished when Hux left the room. And then there were two. Poe refused to look at his intimidator, opting instead to remain fixed on the door.

"He wouldn't have saved you," menaced Kylo Ren. "General Hux may not have the same appetite for violence as I do, but he still serves under me. Rest assured, anything he said to you in here was for his benefit, not yours."

Poe's eyes flicked toward the Sith, but only for a split-second before returning to the door.

"I'm going to start by asking you the same question I have been every day since your capture. Where is the map piece?"

Poe made to answer. Instead of one normal breath, he took a couple short ones. "I don't know." He hated how strained his voice sounded.

"But now you acknowledge its existence, instead of saying there isn't one. That's progress," Kylo said. Poe's heart sank. He was slipping.

"You won't get anything out of me." He said more to himself than anyone else.

"I don't suspect I will," Kylo said, an admittance which snapped Poe's attention to him. "Not today, at any rate. Today, I'll need to break your spirit a bit further. Then, within the next day or two, you will tell me what I want to know."

Kylo extended a hand. Poe attempted, once again, to put distance between himself and the gesture. He only moved for a few seconds before some unseen compulsion held him like a vice. He did his best to breathe in before a scream tore itself from his coarse throat, one which echoed through the door and down the Destroyer's lengthy passages. And then, all he knew was pain.

…

The sun had just barely began its slow descent across the endless blue of a desert sky when Rey dropped what was to be the day's final bit of scrap into her speeder's net. She'd decided to ignore Ashla's advice and give the old Star Destroyer one final day. It went about as well as the previous, and so she spent the next two at her current location, the Corellian Corvette.

This would've been a CR90, if her deductions were correct. Though, it was kind of hard to tell. Most of the outer paneling and interior structure had been ripped clean. As such, the entire front was missing. Without it, all ships of this design philosophy kind of looked the same. At least they did to Rey. Whatever salvage company got to this first clearly had a thing for Corellian metal.

That was the first of two contributing factors working in tandem to make this a lucrative find. The second was distance. A major downside of a planet littered and abandoned was the lack of new wreckage. There was plenty to go around, sure—and major population centers popped up around big clusters—but as the closer wrecks became picked clean, scavengers had to travel increasingly long distances. This could be annoying, yet it also meant ships further out had a higher chance of boasting a litany of valuable components. This Corvette was no different.

Rey stood beside the seat of her speeder and looked off roughly toward Niima Outpost. How anyone managed to find their way through the endless dunes was beyond her. The only reason Rey knew how to get back home was because she remembered what direction she came from. Otherwise, it would be so simple to get lost.

The scavenger mounted her steed. A check for her staff in the little slot she wedged it in beneath the hood, and she was off. Through the heat she hurtled, watching as the watery mirage in the distance faded away with every encroaching yard. Cruel, how the desert made you see water that wasn't actually there. Just one of the many things that made life in the desolation so difficult.

The trip back to Niima Outpost was so long, Rey had to stop a little more than halfway through to rehydrate. She chose a place to stop at the base of a dune and dismounetd. A flask was pulled from the bottom of her bag. Technically, this container had been intended for alcohol. But, it held water just fine. Rey leaned back against her vehicle and took a long swig. It was warm and tasted of metal, but still wet enough to get the job done.

The sound of a few distant speeders echoed into her pit stop valley. Such things were pretty normal occurrences, especially as one traveled closer to civilization, so Rey didn't think much of it. Their high-pitched whine carried an almost hypnotic cadence, strangely soothing in the way that only a speeder could be. Rey closed her eyes to let the sun and sound wash over her. She took a drink. Not a bad way to spend a break. It wasn't until the sounds came closer, did her hackles go up.

Her eyes shot open. She looked, left, and then right. The featureless expanse made it impossible to tell where the sound came from, or even exactly how close it was. They could've been miles away, or right on top of her. Either way, she didn't want to be there when they arrived. She was exposed, a sitting duck. Not that there were any better places to rest, of course.

Rey put the cap back on her flask and shoved it in the bag. No time to redo the wraps around her face. The most important thing was to get out of the area. She managed to almost get one leg over her speeder when the enemy came upon her.

Three speeder bikes blazed down the dune before her. One of them, carrying a pair of passengers, was an old Imperial frame. The rest weren't explicitly known to her. They filled the valley and formed a circle around Rey's resting spot. They moved around the perimeter at a slow speed, kicking up dust. Rey retrieved her staff and stood next to her own speeder. She tossed her bag beneath it. Holding the weapon down in her right hand, she tried her best to appear nonchalant. For the annoyed anxiety in her heart, she couldn't be certain of her success in doing so.

The bikes came to a stop after an excessively long time circling. One halted directly in front, while the others formed a long triangle behind. The gaps between them were definitely big enough to zip through right then and there, but what if one of them had a blaster? Better to avoid the risk of getting shot. So, Rey waited until they all dismounted.

A man with dark hair, brown eyes, and a wicked cowlick approached her. He was handsome in the way no-good scoundrels tended to be. A pretty woman with her blonde hair in a ponytail got off behind him. Now, most smart hoodlums would stay in formation and surround their prey. These were not smart hoodlums. The man and woman were joined on the left by a rotund Weequay, and the right by a somewhat short Zabrak.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the man said as he approached. "Fancy meeting you here." His rough voice dripped with sugary condescension.

"What do you want, Wrench?" Rey was having none of it.

"Rey, baby, aren't you happy to see me?" Wrench angled out his arms in a placating gesture.

"Don't call me that," warned Rey. "And you didn't answer my question."

"I think you know what we're here for." Wrench nodded toward her speeder. "Hand over the net."

"Really?" Rey scoffed. "Did you forget what happened last time?"

"You won't get the better of me again. I have some new muscle this time around." Wrench indicated the Weequay.

"I noticed," acknowledged Rey. "I also noticed you're missing one. What, did you feed him to the new guy?"

The Zabrak and the Weequay both had a good chuckle at that. Wrench looked at each of them, equal parts confused and angry.

"Hey! Don't encourage her," he said. "Any why are _you_ even laughing? She just insulted you!"

"It's funny because I probably _could've_ eaten that scrawny little sleemo." The Weequay had a very deep voice.

"Speaking of sleemos," Rey brought the attention back to her. "Are you actually gonna rob me, or should I roast the rest of your crew? I can probably think of something for Blondie back there" She pointed at the only other woman on the field, who seemed taken aback at being targeted.

The woman's face shifted to defiant. "It's _Rissa_ ," she hissed.

"I really don't care," Rey denied.

"I could listen to you insult my people all day, but I have better things to do," Wrench interjected. "Last chance. Turn over your stuff, and we'll leave you alone."

"We both know that's not gonna happen. If you want my things..." Rey assumed her fighting stance. "Then you'll have to take them from me."

"Easy enough. Get her, boys!"

Since Wrench didn't have much of an infantry to follow his orders, he was the first to do so. He charged at Rey with the Zabrak close behind. Rey stood sentinel, watching them both best as she could. Wrench came up on her left. Rey hit him across the face with her staff. She then kicked the Zabrack in the stomach before he could reach her. Transitioning back to her first opponent, Rey supplied Wrench with an upward strike to each kidney, alternating ends of her staff, before she cracked it down on the Zabrak's head. Wrench kicked out the back of her knee. Rey fell upon it. Without missing a beat, she rose back up with a vicious one-handed swing. A flourish saw her holding it behind her back.

A warcry signified the Weequay finally joining the battle. He barreled toward Rey, arms outstretched. This was probably the most telegraphed attack the scavenger had ever seen. To sidestep it proved no problem whatsoever. The Weequay sailed past her. Unable to arrest his own momentum, he crashed into Rey's speeder behind her.

No time to worry about him. The Zabrak came on again. Rey gave him a whap upside the head for his troubles. She twirled her staff and intercepted Wrench with a similar strike. The staff caught him behind the ear, right on the sweet spot. He did a half turn and collapsed, slowly moving on the ground. He wasn't getting up anytime soon.

Rey took a step to finish him off, but the Weequay grabbed her from behind. Before she could do anything he had her in a full nelson, arms beneath her biceps and hands clasped behind her head. She thrashed about wildly, kicking her feet and twisting in a desperate attempt to get free. She bonked her captor on the head a few times, but what little dexterity should could manage with her staff offered little power. The Weequay's grip was a vice, and she'd no chance of escape.

The Zabrak squared up with her. She kicked him in the gut, an attack which forced him back a step. He came in again, this time at an angle, and her kick missed. For her troubles, the Zabrak gave her a right hook to the eye. Rey went for another kick. This time he pushed her shin back down with one hand, then punched the other side of her face with the other. Wrench decided to add his own input with a roundhouse kick to the stomach. The Zabrak punched her again.

This was bad. She didn't need the pain in her face, nor the swelling she already felt, to tell her that. She had to do something.

Wrench came in for another kick. Rey met his foot with her own. She tied up his leg, shifted her foot up his calf, and pushed down on his knee. It gave a distinct snap as Wrench collapsed upon it. His agonized cry echoed across the flat sand.

The Zabrak, seemingly upset by this, gave a sneer and yet another fist. Rey did her best to push through the pain and counter at the same time as his attack landed. Her foot found a gap between his legs and stopped on something soft. The Zabrak made that pinched, wide-eyed expression humanoid men usually did when attacked in the downstairs. He bent over with both hands on the region, stumbling away with a half turn.

Her attackers dealt with, the only obstacle was to get out of this hold. Rey clamped her staff in both hands behind the Weequay's back. Feet planted on the ground, she pulled her entire weight (which wasn't much) to the left. The Weequay moved with her, and they ended up in an awkward tandem spin. His size, coupled with the hold, both affected his balance and removed the ability to stabilize himself. He only made it around two rotations before the third saw him toppling. Rey ended up on top of the pile. She rolled off into a kneel.

The plan had been to assault the grounded opponent, but the sound of a speeder thudding to life dashed that altogether. Rey looked up to find that the girl, Rissa, had managed to hotwire her speeder and now tried to drive away with it. With a primal shout Rey got to her feet and barreled toward the thief. Rissa looked over just in time to see Rey tackle her. They both went flying over the opposite side of the vehicle.

Rey landed in the mount, pinning her opponent back-to the sand. Staff in her left hand, she began raining down blows with her right on the trapped woman. Again, and again, and again her fist found purchase on that blonde face, making it a little bit less pretty with every blow. Rissa tried to fight her off, but clearly had no idea what she was doing. To get past her meager, flailing defense was a trivial matter at best.

The assault continued until a foot caught Rey's ribs. She allowed the air in her lungs to be expelled and let the attack's momentum carry her in a double roll across the ground. The scavenger twisted herself up into a kneel. Before her stood the Weequay, guarding Rissa as if she were a princess. The Zabrak came up beside him, limping slightly. Rey got to her feet, and let them come.

The Zabrak seemed to find his footing as he approached. The Weequay, however, had no such issues. He barged straight toward her again. Rey turned to let him pass by, this time with a poke to the lower back as he did. The Zabrak pulled back for a big punch, and in doing so left himself exposed for a duo of upward swipes.

Rey knew better than to stay in one place with the Weequay behind her. She turned to face her speeder and took two big steps back. Just as predicted, the Weequay grabbed up the air she'd just been standing in. He received a stab to the neck for his troubles. The big alien held both hands to his throat, coughing as he stumbled away.

The Zabrak managed to land another punch to Rey's face. She squared up to him, a snarl where his fist just was. What followed was a flurry of motion. The Zabrak went on the offensive, punching for speed like a boxer. Every hit he threw, Rey met with a twirl of her staff. Whichever end didn't deflect a hand instead went toward attacking. No matter what he tried, the Zabrak simply coulnd't get past Rey's windmill defense. Each attempt saw him further battered. He drew back, covering up high to rethink his strategy. Rey saw this as an opportunity. Again she attacked his groin, this time with a sharp staff thrust. Again the Zabrak bent over, nursing the impact zone.

"Whyyy..." he whined and fell to his knees.

Rey whipped around. Only the Weequay left, now. He recovered quickly from the throat shot, a strike which would've put down a lesser opponent. This one was tougher than the average wannabe thief. All that strength couldn't buy intelligence, however. Just as he had the past two times, he came straight toward her.

This time, Rey held her ground. She stopped him in place with an upward blow from the left. Her entire pody coiled like a spring to absorb the impact of his charge. She felt her feet dig into the loose ground and slide back a bit, but she remained upright.

Rey knew the importance of a quick follow-up, here. She brought her staff around and down from the left. This put he staff in one hand, the back side planted behind her. She struck upward from the right and spun. As she came around, Rey launched her weapon into a twirl. A trio of hits sung out right-left-right. With the momentum from the last swing, she transitioned into a high guard. The fight ended with a jab to the throat, and a slash across the temple. The Weequay crumpled to his left, barely catching himself with one hand.

"Gwollu, come on! We're getting out of here!" Rissa yelled.

Rey looked over to see the blonde leading an injured Wrench back to their speeder. The Weequay, Gwollu, looked from his leader, to Rey, and back again. With an agitated huff, he stood. Rey let him move past her, careful to keep her guard up in case he tried anything. But, he did not. Instead, he slung the still agonized Zabrak over his shoulder, deposited the man on his speeder, and then claimed his own. When Wrench was all loaded up, with Rissa in the driver's seat, they sped off in a trail of sand.

As they left, something wrapped up in a dirty grey blanket fell from the back of the Zabrak's speeder, something moving. Rey watched it curiously. When the gang was far enough away that their sound didn't dominate the landscape, she noticed muffled beeping sounds from beneath the cover. A droid, likely destined for a scrap heap. That simply wouldn't do. She approached.

Slowly, so as not to stun the thing, Rey took off the blanket. There looking up at her, quivering ever so slightly, was the most adorable white and orange BB unit she'd ever seen.

"Hey there, little guy." Rey bent down with a big smile and waved at the droid. It tried to roll backwards away from her, but something in its gyro ball hitched and it couldn't move. "Don't be afraid, I'm not here to hurt you. In fact, I just saved you from those bad men." That she hadn't meant to save him was an irrelevant detail.

The droid made an tentative whir.

"That's right, I did. My name's Rey." She held out her hand for him to shake. The droid chirped its name, but didn't move. "Oh, right, you don't exactly have arms, do you? Well, BB-8, it's nice to meet you."

BB-8 started to respond, but something sparked from beneath his head. He flinched in a way that only a droid which was mostly a ball could, and made a few distressed bloops.

"They roughed you up a bit, didn't they? May I?"

Rey pointed toward where the sparks had come from. The droid hesitated with a sheepish look up at her, but decided to trust her with a long whir. He rolled back to expose a part of the problem. A long gash was cut in his gyro ball. It didn't seem to be sparking anymore, but certainly did explain why he had a such a hard time rolling around. He made a worried beep.

"No, it's not as bad as it looks," Rey lied. "What are you doing all the way out here, anyway?"

BB-8 gave a curt few beeps.

"Classified, really? Me, too. Big secret," Rey said with a sly wink.

BB-8 provided a series of sounds, all of them rather matter-of-fact for a droid.

"You got me there," Rey said. "You're right, I'm a scavenger. Those guys were trying to steal my stuff... again."

The droid asked a question.

"No, no. They're jerks to everyone, not just me," Rey explained. She ran her fingers along the damage on the droid's gyro ball. "Well, I'm sorry little buddy, but I'm not much of a mechanic. I don't know how to fix you."

BB-8 made a sad whistle, and it broke Rey's heart.

"Does it hurt?" She asked. The droid shook his head. "That's good. I'm sorry I can't fix you, but I can get you out of all this sand. How about it, wanna come home with me?"

BB-8 didn't answer right away. Rey understood his hesitation. He'd just been mistreated by a bunch of organics, who might have even used a similar line to lure him in. The droid had every right to be wary of her. After several seconds, he made a few uncertain beeps.

"I seem alright?" She repeated. BB-8 booped once. "I promise I'm nothing like those chubbas. I'll take you right home, make sure you're comfortable, and I won't even _think_ about selling you for scrap. You have my word."

BB-8 considered her again, but much more briefly this time around. He gave a series of affirmative noises.

"Great!" Rey celebrated. "My home is still a few hours from here. Come on, I'll put you on my speeder and we'll go."

Rey gently picked up her new mechanical friend, very careful to avoid agitating any of his damage. She was pleasantly surprised to find he was much lighter than he looked, a common trait in droids meant for starfighters. That raised a bunch of questions and answered absolutely none, but she had more important matters to worry about. Those questions could be asked in time. For now, she just had to get BB-8 somewhere safe.

She made a secure little nest amongst her junk pile, placed BB-8 within it, and then made sure he was comfortable before mounting her stallion. They took off at a slower speed than she normally would, destined for the little shamble Rey called home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: It always bothered me how, after saving BB-8, Rey tries to leave him in the desert. He has to beg her to take him in. Then, when she finally does, it's only for the night. Why go through all the trouble of saving BB-8, just to leave him alone gathering sand? A droid like him would draw a pretty penny, so if the Teedo didn't get him, someone else would. It makes no sense.
> 
> Please remember to leave kudos and a comment.


	4. Two Late Nights

Rey pulled her speeder into the little makeshift garage dug out inside her Imperial walker home. Carefully, the scavenger pressed forward, to avoid scraping the sides with her new cargo and friend. The opening was big enough to present little danger in doing so, but she took precautions anyway. They were lucky enough to get home without another unfortunate interruption. Best not mess things up now with careless driving.

BB-8 had proven a much chattier droid than she'd initially suspected. He beeped and booped the whole ride, keeping Rey company with his congenial sense of humor. He even mentioned his owner, Poe, as the reason he'd been on the planet in the first place, though refused to give up much more than a name. His mission was, after all, classified.

But Rey wasn't a stupid girl. The less intelligent tended to wind up missing or dead on Jakku. Through their conversation, she managed to piece together that BB-8 and his owner belonged to either the New Republic or the Resistance. Neither answer seemed more likely, though. What would the current galactic superpower want with a desolate backwater? Likewise, the First Order had no presence of Jakku, so why would the Reistance waste its time?

It was probably a good thing that he belonged to one of either such prestigious organizations, all things considered. If a droid with an important task went missing, then surely someone would come looking for him. That meant BB-8 would be back with his people soon, and maybe even reunited with his owner. All Rey had to do in the meantime was keep him safe. Her knowledge of the desert, along with—if she did say so herself—considerable staff fighting skills, made her uniquely qualified to do just that. Hence, the caution in arriving home.

Rey shut off her speeder and dismounted. Gently as possible, so to avoid damaging him further, Rey removed BB-8 from the little nest she'd made for him. Again, she marveled at his weight. It was good for him to be so light. Otherwise,without his ability to roll, taking him through the desert would've proved impossible.

The droid beeped as Rey picked him up.

"Yeah, well, that's because the lights in this part of the walker aren't working," she explained. In response, BB-8 phrased a short question. "I haven't had time to fix them. I think I'm familiar enough with the wiring in here, at this point, to do it, but I'm too busy with work."

Rey brought the droid into the main living area. Not confident she could hold onto him with just one hand, she didn't bother with the lights. Enough natural illumination streamed in from outside to make them unnecessary, though it were a bit dimmer than she would've liked.

"Home sweet home," she said. "I know it's not much, but it's mine."

BB-8 beeped, hesitated, and then beeped again. Rey gave him a little laugh.

"You don't have to be polite. I know this place isn't exactly five-star," admitted Rey.

She put him down in a corner of her couch. Since he couldn't move, she wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. The only place even close to that was the couch, so that's where he ended up.

"Is this okay?" She asked. BB-8 voiced his confirmation. "Good. Now, I hate to leave immediately, but I have to turn in my scrap before it gets dark."

BB-8 gave a series of sounds, both inquisitive and a bit fearful in their tone.

"No, you can't come with me. Those spaceheads are savages. They'd rip off your head if it made them a chit," Rey denied.

BB-8 let out a long whistle, his head slowly drooping.

"I'll only be gone an hour, if that. I'll hurry back, don't worry," Rey reassured him.

He hesitated, but made a pair of boops, much like a child being told to go clean his room. Rey couldn't help but smile.

"Okay. I'll see you in a bit."

The droid said his goodbyes, and Rey rushed out to her speeder. Wasting no time, she put on her goggles, mounted the steed, and headed out.

The scavenger made record time on her way to Niima Outpost. She had to. Leaving BB-8 home alone was a dangerous idea. Anyone with some sort of power scanner would be able to tell her AT-AT had a droid inside. Such things were rare on poorer planets, and most people knew to give her abode a wide berth, but the possibility was still there.

However, despite this danger, leaving him alone was still safer than the alternative. A working astromech droid, especially one so well-kept, would be worth a small fortune by scavenger standards. Turning him in meant enough food to last a year, along with more than enough credits to book passage off the planet altogether. No one would be dumb enough to steal him where the Hutts could see, but the unwanted attention he generated would put both of them in danger. Rey did a good job fending for herself, but whether she could protect the droid at the same time was a different matter entirely.

Rey turned in her net with no conversation. She collected her prize—a single portion—and vacated the area. Even a visit to Ashla was out of the question, despite how she desperately wanted to speak with her friend about everything that just happened. She probably seemed in a bad mood, which definitely hurt her reputation in the Outpost. None of that mattered. She could make a better impression later. Right now, she had to get back home.

She probably drove a little bit too fast on the way back home. Her speeder was an aged thing, likely older than herself. It rattled like a frostbitten protocol droid at high speeds. Something told Rey that wasn't supposed to happen. It certainly had been built for utility, not speed. Considering all that, she still had no problem pushing the vehicle to its limits. She wasn't about to let BB-8 get taken again, not when she'd gone through all the trouble of saving him.

The vehicle served her well enough as it pulled into the garage still intact. Rey shut it off, deposited her goggles atop one of the power batteries, and moved into the living room.

"I'm back, BB-8!" She called into the space. The droid, still exactly where she'd left him, slowly looked up at her. A blue light behind his bigger lens flickered on. He must've been in a low power mode. "Told you I wouldn't be too long," she said.

The little droid beeped a few things.

"Yeah, I figured you'd been asleep," remarked Rey. "Don't worry about power, though. I'm sure I can recharge you from my solar array."

BB-8 chimed a question.

"Yeah, it's just outside. You wouldn't have seen it." Rey said.

She walked across the room to grab her bowl. She placed it down on the coffee table and began dumping the bread powder from her portion into it. BB-8 asked another question.

"This is food," answered the girl. "Though, I'm sure it barely qualifies to some folks. Watch, I just pour it in here and add some water..."

Rey trailed off as she finished doling out half of the powder. She fished a little bit of water from the barrels on the other end of the AT-AT. A few drops in the bowl, and a loaf of pale bread sprang up from seemingly out of nowhere. BB-8 hopped a little closer and made some impressed beeps.

"Never seen anything like it, right?" Rey gave some water to her flower. "Stormtroopers used to eat this stuff all the time." She placed a few pieces of green veg-meat beside the steaming loaf to heat up.

BB-8 posed yet another rinquiry.

"I'm not sure," Rey said. "I never really stopped to think about what First Order soldiers eat. It might be the same stuff."

The droid agreed as Rey plopped down on the couch next to him.

"Well, I know you don't eat, but do you need anything while I'm waiting for the bread to cool?"

BB-8 made a sequence of serious-sounding beeps.

"You have to get off this planet?" Intoned Rey. "Me too, buddy."

There was a stale silence, and then BB-8 made an inquisitive whir.

"No, I don't wanna talk about it," denied Rey. She paused. "It's just—" she began, talking about it. "Look around you. What is there to see around here? Nothing! And that's the problem. It's the kind of endlessness that eats you up. I mean, how are the people here supposed to be anything, when all they have is nothing? I know I seem happy here, but I'm really just resigned to it, and that bothers me. No one should get used to a place like this."

BB-8 provided a few gentle beeps.

"You're not helping, BB-8," Rey snapped. The droid hopped back an inch and looked down. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm... not really used to being so open with people. You're only the second person I've ever said any of that to. Though, in fairness, most people don't ask. I might be more forthcoming if anyone actually cared."

BB-8 chirped his encouragement.

"You're sweet. Tell you what." Rey leaned in closer to him. "Since we both want to leave so badly, why don't we get off Jakku together?"

BB-8 gave a quartet of excited boops. Rey smiled and rubbed his head.

"I thought you would like that. You mentioned something about getting back to your owner, right?"

BB-8 chirped.

"Poe, right." Rey settled in cross-legged next to her mechanical friend. "Why don't you tell me about him?"

Rey's little scheme to find out a little more about the droid worked, as BB-8 began to regale her with stories about his dashing best friend and the scraps he got into. BB-8 chose his words carefully to avoid divulging too many details, and in turn, Rey kept most questions to herself. She was here to talk, to learn, and to make him a bit more comfortable in what was surely a trying time. Grilling him for information past what he wanted to give defeated that point.

The two of them talked well into the night, far later than Rey usually stayed up. It had been ages since she'd had any sort of company. Even Ashla didn't stick around very long when she visited. Rey had forgotten just how nice it was to have someone else around.

The next day started pretty much the same as they always did, but a few hours later. The normalcy took Rey off-guard. She should have expected a droid unable to move wouldn't get in the way much, yet she failed to take that into consideration. As she ate a breakfast of preserved food from her stores, she marveled at just how natural it felt to spend her morning with BB-8. He was such an amicable little fellow, finding him in her home seemed less an intrusion than a welcome presence. Beyond all that, she was just glad to, for the first time in forever, not go through her morning routine alone.

Leaving BB-8 to go scavenging was much easier than going to Niima had been the previous day. Though still trepidatious, they were both a little more comfortable with the prospect. Now familiar with the home and how relatively secure it was, BB-8 offered only minor protests when Rey announced her plans to leave. For her, the fear of anything bad happening somewhat faded. Honestly, her home was probably one of the safest places in the desert. Bad things tended to happen in the middle of nowhere, far away from prying eyes. Unfortunately, _middle of nowhere_ described most of the planet. She still hated the idea of leaving him, but at least it didn't make her a miserable ball of anxiety.

She returned to the Corellian Corvette once again. As a much smaller ship than an Imperial Star Destroyer, it offered a slimmer bounty. In that way, it already began to provide diminishing returns. Rey doubted she could get much more than another day or two out of it before moving on to something else. There was still that old shuttle, but something like that was good for a single day of scrapping. She'd have to find bigger fish to sustain herself with. But, those were problems for Future Rey. Present Rey wanted to get cutting, get paid, and get home.

What followed was a hard day of work, cut short by her late start. Maybe the Corvette wasn't the best idea, this time around. Its position far away from civilization put it at a disadvantage opposed to other wrecks, and Rey had little enough time in the first place. Using any of it for travel made her job that day even harder than usual.

But, no sense worrying about that now. The most she could do was collect everything in her power and make the best of it. So, Rey set about doing just that. The next few hours were dedicated to cutting, slicing, hauling, and gathering the valuable leftovers inside the Corvette. If there were any positive at all, the shorter day meant she could maybe get another day out of the vessel, lengthening the time before Future Rey's problems became her own.

Roughly five hours passed before the sun dipped dangerously low in the sky. Rey pushed until the last possible second, harvesting materials past the point when she knew it would be better to turn back. When she could no longer risk it, Rey packed up her net and sped back to Niima Outpost, once again driving faster than she would've liked.

It was tempting to curse the droid for this unfortunate turn of events, but Rey expunged those thoughts the moment they formed. She had chosen to stay up speaking with him. BB-8 seemed like a pretty understanding little guy. He would probably have been fine if she went to bed at her normal time. But, no. She made the decision to put off sleep. That was on her. She had to do a better job this coming night.

Rey did a quick scan of the work area. The search immediately located Ashla, poncho hood up over her montrals, looking over some schematics on a blue piece of flimsiplast. She so wanted to go greet her friend, especially after not seeing the older Togruta at all the day previous. But, it was far too late for that. Tomorrow, they could catch up. Today, she had to get home.

To that end, and with a heavy heart, Rey turned to leave. She took a single step before stopping short. She whipped back around to regard her friend with a curious glare. Something just came to her mind, a memory of an old conversation, one which may just be a solution to one of her current problems. A determined set to her gait, Rey walked over to the mechanic.

"Hey, Ashla," she said, businesslike.

"Hi, Rey. What's—oh!" The Togruta halted upon getting a look at her. "What happened?"

"What? What do you mean?" Rey looked around to located what her friend could be talking about.

"Your eye?" Ashla clarified, pointing.

"My eye?" Rey touched her left eye. She felt the skin there slightly swollen and tender. "Oh, that? I had another run-in with Wrench and his floozies." She hadn't looked in a mirror since the fight. It must've left a mark.

"Again?" Ashla put down her flimsiplast. "What did they want _this_ time?"

Rey shrugged. "Same as always. I made them think better of it, though." She gave her right shoulder a quick rotation for emphasis.

"You shouldn't just fight your way out of everything," chastised Ashla. "You'll get yourself in some serious trouble one of these days."

"I know. And when I do, I'll handle it." Rey had all the confidence in the world. Ashla just shook her head.

"Well, it's nice talking to you, but you really should be getting home. It'll be dark, soon," said Ashla.

"I know, but there's something I need to ask you about. You used to fix droids, right?" Rey launched her gambit.

Ashla blinked a couple times at the sudden subject change. "That was a long time ago, but yes. Why?"

"Because, when I beat up Wrench's gang and they ran away from me the other day, one of his speeders dropped a droid, a BB unit, but he's damaged. I took him in, but I don't know how to fix him. Do you think you could come by and take a look?" Rey expected that to be a much longer explanation. She surprised herself when it all came out in just a few sentences. Still, Ashla seemed to get the point, which was the important part.

"Hmm..." Ashla considered this for a moment. "Sure, I can come take a look. Are you busy now?"

"No, I was just going back," Rey answered. "But, what about you? That looks important." She pointed to the blueprint.

"Oh, that's nothing, just a schematic I wanted to review, but I can do that anytime." Ashla said as she rolled the flimsiplast into a scroll. Page in hand, she stood up. "Just let me get my tools, and then you can lead the way."

"Alright. Thanks, Ashla!" Rey said.

"Of course," the Togruta nodded.

The two of them parted ways, walking opposite directions. Rey got on her speeder and pulled a few feet away from the Outpost to wait for Ashla. The mechanic came up a few minutes later in her vehicle. Ashla probably had the nicest speeder on all of Jakku. It cut a sleek profile, a wide dip at the front and just slightly rolled up at the sides, its engines were hidden within the rear of the craft. The windshield jutted up just far enough to protect the driver of its topless design. The exterior had been painted in jagged stripes of dark and light blue.

With a nod from her companion, Rey took off. Logically, her vehicle should have been faster, as it was a speeder bike. But, no, she knew that to be untrue. Ashla's could absolutely demolish hers along a straight, and it handled better to boot. Rey had no doubt the mechanic had done extensive work on it.

They arrived at her walker home just as the sun began to set. As Ashla's much larger speeder wouldn't in any way come close to fitting in the garage, she parked it just outside, despite Rey's protest. Ashla assured her that anyone who stole a speeder from the Hutts' lead mechanic would have much bigger problems than simple stolen property. Rey waited for Ashla, bulging tool bag in hand, to enter before announcing her presence.

"I'm back, BB-8!" Rey called. The droid chirped from the other room. "How would you know if I'm late or not?"

"He's awful sassy," commented Ashla. "I see why you two get along."

"Hey!" The human girl protested with a look back over her shoulder. She couldn't argue, however, for Ashla was absolutely right.

They passed into the main living area, and Rey's heart broke, for she found BB-8 in the exact same spot she'd left him. It must've been so scary and frustrating, to be stuck in place for so long. It further affirmed the need to have him repaired. To that end, she trusted Ashla completely. Given enough time and the right materials, Rey believed her friend could fix anything.

BB-8 looked to the girls as the entered, and immediately locked onto Ashla. He had every right to be wary of a new person, especially when people on this planet hadn't been very nice to him so far. However, Ashla was perhaps the least frightening person in the galaxy. A proper introduction would break the ice.

"BB-8, this is my good friend, Ashla." Rey gestured toward the Togruta. "She's a mechanic. She's here to fix you up."

"Nice to meet you, BB-8," Ashla said in an extra gentle tone, which was remarkable, because she had a rather pleasant voice to begin with.

The droid beeped a greeting to her. Ashla knelt down in front of him, her tools on the seat beside.

"Do you mind showing me the damage?" She asked. BB-8 hesitated, and then booped. "I know it's embarrassing, and I'm sorry, but you don't have to worry. I'm not here to judge you. Everyone needs a little help from time to time, and there's nothing wrong with that."

A stroke of genius, appealing to the droid's pride. Of _course_ he would be uncomfortable with his situation, not because of the damage, but because he allowed it to happen. BB-8 was clearly a special droid, and with that came an amount of ego. Rey hadn't even thought of that until just then. Further evidence why Ashla was a professional.

BB-8 used the back of the couch to rotate his ball without actually moving. His whole being shuttered at the effort. The locomotion device clearly had no intention of being used, so the poor guy had to force it around. Slowly the deep gash in his plating came into view, gradually revealed from beneath his head. Ashla gave it a long, contemplative look.

"Hmm..." she began. "Run a full diagnostic and project the results for me."

BB-8 gave a series of beeps in compliance. He whirred and clicked from the inside, sounding very much like the machine he was. The process took him only a few seconds. Rey marveled at the speed of it. From what she understood of astromech droids, especially smaller ones like him, they lacked the computing power necessary for such rapid completion of an otherwise complex task. Just what did BB-8 have stuffed inside to make him so powerful?

The blue light he projected onto the floor didn't help much. It was all Huttese to Rey. She only understood the barest of concepts of the blueprints, and even then had no idea how it all worked together.

Ashla, thankfully, didn't have that problem. She poured over the diagnostic with the same attention one might give a good book. Orange hands removed the hood from her head, allowing the blue and white striped montrals to show in their full glory. A few minutes passed in silence. The air quickly grew stale. Rey felt awkward discomfort grow between herself and BB-8. They exchanged a glance, which caused the schematic projection to move. In response, Ashla grabbed his head and moved it back to where it had been. They remained like that a minute more before she finally spoke.

"Are you aware that almost half of your parts are illegal?" Ashla said. Rey's eyes tripled in diameter. _Illegal_? What kind of droid had she found?

BB-8 made a procession of sounds, both worried and a bit let down.

"This is Jakku, sweetie. There's no law to turn you in to," Ashla said with a smirk. "But, I have great news. Your internals look perfectly fine. Other than some general wear and tear, I don't see any problems. Your gyros are reading this crack as uneven terrain, which is why you're having a hard time moving. Filling it should restore your locomotion."

BB-8 made a long series of joyous noises which left smiles on both Rey's and Ashla's faces. He fidgeted around on the couch, and Rey thought he might have spun around in circles if his ball allowed it.

Wasting no time, Ashla got to work. Her first step was to take a graft of the wound, which she did by rubbing some sort of black substance over a piece of paper held tight to it. This made a perfect image of the gash. She then cut this out with a small knife, placed it on a sheet of durasteel, and outlined it with a marker. Out then came the fusion cutter to make short work of the metal. When the piece popped out from its home, Ashla gave its edges a good sand to remove any imperfections, and also get it down to just the right size.

With the piece finally prepared, she put it into place and began welding it solid. Rey watched her with momentary terror in her heart. She was afraid the heat would hurt the droid. Either BB-8 had been programmed to not feel pain, or just was very brave, for he offered no reaction. Rey felt foolish a moment later. Ashla was not cruel. Far from it, actually. If the welder presented a threat to the droid, then he would've been shut off first.

When that was done, Ashla sanded away the rough raised bubbles created by the welder. Her last step was to put some thick yellow goop on a piece of plastic and slather a healthy portion over the repair. BB-8 asked her about it.

"This is a chemical bonder. It should help set the weld and seal it from the elements. Just give it four hours to dry, and you should be right as rain."

BB-8 offered up a series of thankful beeps, some of which weren't actually words. Ashla chuckled at him.

"You're very welcome," she said. "Now, don't go running off with anymore gangsters, alright?" She warned.

BB-8 played along and said how he could make no such promises. Ashla gave his head a pat before she finished up applying the chemical bonder. The finished repair left BB-8 with a scar of unpainted smooth durasteel that, while it failed to match the rest of his body, met perfectly with it. Were it colored appropriately, no one would ever be able to tell there had been a problem at all.

Ashla put away her tools and stood to face Rey.

"Thank you so much, Ashla. I was so worried about him," Rey said.

"Don't mention it. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, so I'm happy to help." Ashla handed her a piece of sandpaper. "At some point after the bonder dries, you'll need to sand it away. It comes off easily, so it shouldn't be too much trouble."

"Okay, thank you." Rey took the sandpaper. "Are you leaving now?"

"I was going to. Why, do you need something else?" Ashla said with no attempt to hide her exhaustion. It was late, precisely why Rey bothered asking.

"No, it's just, the sun went down a while ago. I don't think you should travel at night," Rey said. In response, Ashla gave a little laugh through her nose.

"I'm a big girl, Rey. I can take care of myself," she said.

"Still..." Rey insisted.

"I'll be fine, trust me. I've dealt with worse than a few Jawas." Ashla laid a comforting hand on Rey's bicep.

"Okay," conceded the human girl after a moment.

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah, see you."

With that, Ashla departed. Rey watched her go, still worried. She just wanted her friend to be safe, what was so wrong with that? On the other hand, she couldn't force her to stay. Ashla had her own life, a fierce independence Rey admired since the first time they met. When Ashla said she could handle the desolate night, Rey believed her. Ashla could probably take on the world, if she chose to.

Rey yawned, a reminder of the hour. She had to wake at her regular time the next day to make up for the short shift she'd just worked. That meant taking only a few minutes to speak with BB-8 before she bathed and went to bed. Despite the stresses of the day, it had still been a good one. With her new friend fixed and acquainted with her oldest friend, how could it not be? Tomorrow would probably be great, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: These chapters keep coming out longer than I expect. I had wanted to end this one with a little interlude into the next, but that would've made it way too long. So, expect that to come at the start of the following chapter.
> 
> I know absolutely nothing about droid repair in the Star Wars universe, and next to nothing about metal work in the real world. Sources for the former are hard to come by. I hope the way Ashla fixed BB-8 was at least somewhat believable.


	5. Flight of Fancy

Within one of many solider barracks, upon one of the many beds therein, FN-2187 sat with his helmet off and his head hung low. This wasn't even his bunk, he just chose one and fell in it. He hoped whowever it belonged to didn't come back anytime soon. Not that he cared, though. He entertained no thoughts of moving. This was his brooding spot, an no one else's.

In his hand, a datapad. He wicked his gaze over it again, just to confirm it really said what it seemed to. This was the day of reckoning, the day a transport ship was scheduled to arrive and take him away to a First Order retraining camp. He had heard the stories, tales of troopers tortured, the weak ones killed, friends forced to fight each other to the death, unspeakable living conditions, all of it in service of destroying what little shred of individuality they had left.

When he thought about it, that was what FN-2187 feared the most, the loss of his identity. He'd never had much of one, being raised under the fist of the First Order, but he at least had some inkling of who he was. He had wants, needs, and goals different from any other trooper, as did most of his comrades. The difference, of course, was that they were willing to blindly follow orders. 2187, however, was not, which led to his current situation.

To the First Order, insubordination was second only to treason. They demanded all soldiers did what they were told, with nary a question nor second thought. Those who couldn't do this were seen as unworthy. FN-2187 had seen his fellow stormtroopers taken away for even minor transgressions such as complaining about bunk assignments. Kylo Ren had even outright killed troopers for hesitating to leap at his command. That he hadn't the day 2187 had disobeyed was a wonder, and one he planned to cherish. The Sith Lord had given him mercy, sought to allow him a second chance. It would be both foolish and disrespectful to squander that wasting away in a re-education camp somewhere.

That was the justification he used, anyway, as he put the datapad down and stood up. He retrieved his helmet from where it had been resting next to him and put it on. Finally, his still never-fired blaster found a place in his hands. With everything he owned—literally just the armor, undersuit, and weapon—FN-2187 left the room.

He traversed the great halls of the Star Destroyer, glad for the anonymity his armor gave to him. Still, it felt as though all eyes followed his every move as he traipsed down the endless corridors. Was it normal, to feel watched when doing something against the rules? Save for a few minor things, he had hardly committed any sort of transgression. He'd grown up so rigidly following strict regulations, he had no idea what it was like to break them. Was it supposed to be so scary?

Traffic near this barracks, where it was closer to the center of the ship, flowed rather thickly. As he delved further into the depths, the crowds gradually thinned out. It didn't matter how many people there were. It didn't matter if anyone paid attention to him or not. FN-2187 felt that every eye watched him as he passed. Everyone was suspicious, from the pair of officers, to the myriad groups of soldiers, to the mouse droid that cruised under his feet. Everyone knew he was about to do something bad. For as much as he tried to rest these thoughts from his mind, he simply could not.

The passageways wound on for a seeming eternity, not an end in sight for the wayward trooper's traversal. His nerves exacerbated the problem tenfold. Every inch felt like a a mile. Every step, a great leap. The expanse of metal and men was an everlasting road met at every corner with the potential for catastrophic failure. But still, FN-2187 pressed on. He had to try. His pride as a trooper and a man would not allow him to simply lay back and accept his fate. If this failed, then so be it. He would not go down without a fight.

When he reached the appropriate hallway, he stopped dead in his tracks and blinked behind the black visor covering his eyes. So concerned had he been with arriving, he hadn't noticed his arrival. A wiser man would warn him about seeing the forest through the trees, about caring more about the journey than the destination. But, he was not a wiser man.

It was not too late to turn back. 2187 told himself this as he took the first step forward. He could suffer through re-education and come back to serve the rest of his days as a loyal subject of the First Order. But, no. That simply was untenable. He refused to be a tool for a organization so evil to strike down innocent villagers. He would not work with those who kidnapped innocent children to enlist in their ranks. This was not the place for him. He had to get out, and saw only one feasible way of doing so.

This part of the ship was mostly isolated for two reasons. One, its out of the way location. Most people had no good reason to come here, so they didn't. The other reason? No one wanted to be so close to the tortures inflicted by Kylo Ren. Even for 2187, each step made his skin crawl. He hated to think about what may have happened to prisoners on this ship over the years. He did his best to cast these things from his mind. There were more important things to worry about.

After a minute or so more of walking, he came upon his final destination. A single trooper stood guarding a door. The security seemed kind of light, but then again, where would this prisoner go? No one person, regardless of skill, could sneak through an entire Star Destroyer alone, steal either a ship or an escape pod, and make it to the surface of Jakku below. They would need help. FN-2187, was happy to oblige. He walked up to the trooper.

"Commander Ren needs the prisoner," he said in his best authoritarian voice.

"What for?" Challenged the guard.

"I don't know, I didn't ask questions. Better that way," deflected 2187.

"I'm... gonna need a confirmation code," the guard said with an air of uncertainty.

"Hey, do you wanna be the reason I'm late? I'm sure Ren would love to hear about it." 2187 hated to resort to threatening, but he had no other choice. The guard considered this for a moment, fiddling uncomfortably with his blaster.

"Alright, fine. Take him." The guard hit a button on the panel behind him, and the door slid open.

FN-2187 hesitated at the sight before him. There, restrained to his metal seat, was the sight of a broken man. Not physically. Save for extremely chapped lips and a few bruises, he looked mostly okay. No, this break was mental. He carried the visage of someone who'd been stretched to the limit, and forced to do something he hated. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, but he had no others. He approached.

"Come on, time to go." 2187 said.

He worked the mechanism on the wrist shackles, and then the ankles. All four restraints folded back into the chair. Poe Dameron said nothing as FN-2187 lifted him from the chair. He didn't even groan at his stiff joints, though they must've hurt him.

Gun pressed into his back, 2187 shepherded him from the room, headed back the way he came. Poe's first few steps were slow and shuffling. By the time they'd walked for a few minutes, he seemed to recover. As FN-2187 had observed, Poe was physically fine. His mind was the problem.

Best deal with that issue sooner, rather than later. After they'd made it out of the cell block and into the next, 2187 whisked them into a droid closet and closed the door. He turned on the underslug flashlight on his blaster to provide illumination. Somehow, Poe looked even worse in the dim lighting. His eyes were wide, shoulders hunched in a vaguely defensive posture.

"What? What is this?" Poe asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

FN-2187 took off his helmet. "Listen. I can get you out of here, but you need to do what I say."

"You... _what_?" Poe still failed to grasp the situation.

"I'm rescuing you. Can you fly a TIE fighter?" 2187 tried to get to the point.

"A rescue? Are you with the Resistance?" Poe continued to ask questions.

"What? No. Can you fly a TIE fighter?" 2187 tried to push through the distractions.

"If you're not with the Resistance, then you must be an actual stormtrooper. Why would you help me?" Poe struck to the heart of his discourse. He wasn't confused, but suspicious.

"Not every trooper agrees with the First Order. I want off this boat just as much as you do, but I can't to it alone," explained FN-2187.

"You need a pilot."

"I need a pilot."

Poe, despite the cracks in his lips, gave a smile. "Okay, let's do it."

"Can—"

"Yes, I can fly a TIE fighter." Poe rolled his eyes. "Now, put that helmet back on. I'll follow your lead."

FN-2187, slightly annoyed by how effortlessly Poe had gained leadership of _his_ operation, replaced the helmet upon his head. Poe turned around and put his hands up so he could be prodded out of the room at gunpoint.

Together, they made way back the direction FN-2187 had come. Appearing no more than guard and prisoner, they walked back through the corridors, destined for the closest hangar bay. Smart design had placed the brig and the most logical escape route far apart to discourage things like this from happening, which meant they had a long ways to go. That knowledge grew the pit in 2187's stomach with every step.

With every fellow trooper they passed, he was afraid of getting into a fight. With every officer, of proving himself on legitimate business. With both himself and this ace Resistance member working together, he felt confident they could take on any opposition that came at them, but that didn't mean he wanted to. The quicker and cleaner this went, the better.

They inched closer to the hangar bay. As they did, the patrols increased in frequency. 2187 felt every muscle in his body tense up. He barely resisted the urge to sprint, and wasn't even conscious of the jog he adopted until Poe pointed it out to him.

"Slow down, kid," Poe warned, voice barely audible.

"Sorry. There's just so many people."

"I know, but that's a good thing. More people means we can blend in, go unnoticed."

"Yeah. Yeah, alright." That made sense to him. FN-2187 resumed a normal walking pace as they continued.

Poe's advice did him absolute wonders. He'd never even stopped to consider how unnatural trying to act normal made him look. When he focused instead on blending in, on being just another part of the crowd, the entire operation became immeasurably easier. For the first time it seemed less like a a long shot, and more like a possibility. They might actually get away with this, long as he didn't mess it up.

Eventually the two of them made it to the hangar. Upon stepping onto the busy deck, the reality of the situation slammed into FN-2187. They were more than halfway. He looked to his left and saw the special forces TIE fighter he was about to help steal. The finish line was literally within sight. All he had to do was get there.

No one paid them any mind as 2187 led his _prisoner_ in a diagonal path off to the left. They had to hide behind some boxes on their approach, but b-lining it for the far wall would doubtless raise plenty of red flags. Why would a captive and his guard on a flight deck need to go anywhere near a wall? So, though the path he chose was somewhat roundabout and took longer, it was the safer method. Not that anything about this was quantifiably safe, of course.

They made it around the boxes. 2187's first reaction was to crouch down behind them, but Poe stifled this with a stealthy tap on the shoulder. 2187 looked up at his new companion, at how he walked as if he belonged there, and adjusted his gait accordingly. It probably looked odd to sneak around. Again, Poe was right.

When they reached the stairs, Poe led the way with all pretenses dropped. If anyone saw them at this point, ruse or not, they'd be found out. So, no need to waste time on it. Poe chose the closest TIE fighter from where it hung on the wall, climbed atop the spherical cockpit, opened up the hatch, and dropped in. FN-2187 hesitated a beat before doing the same. He landed in a chair behind Poe, facing the opposite direction.

He took in the control console before him, hands held awkwardly in the air to avoid touching anything. Poe flicked switches behind him, which caused the cockpit to light up with a dizzying array of colors. He looked around in a daze brought on by the overwhelming flood of new information.

"What should I do?" He asked Poe behind him.

"Ever flown one of these things before?" Poe said.

"No."

"Then enjoy the ride and don't touch anything."

FN-2187 looked over his shoulder at the pilot. "You don't want me on the guns?"

"No, I'm putting all power to shields and engines. We should be able to get out of range before they're able to scramble fighters."

2187 slumped in his chair a little. It disappointed him to take a literal backseat in the rescue he planned. This entire thing had been his idea. What was the point in his being involved if he couldn't do anything? Part of him knew this was a very selfish way to think, but another part of him didn't care.

"Hey, kid," Poe's voice snapped him back to reality. He looked over his shoulder to find the pilot doing the same. "What's your name?"

"FN-2187," he responded.

"FN... what?"

2187 shrugged. "That's the only name I've ever had."

"That's wrong. You're not a damned _number_." Poe turned back around. "I'm not using it. FN... FN," he pondered for a moment. "What about Finn? I'm gonna call you Finn."

"Finn?" 2187 smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, _Finn_! I like that!" He felt heat fill his cheeks as his heart pounded. No one had ever bothered to even try and give him a real name before. The feeling was indescribable. It was almost as if, for the first time, he knew what it was like to be important.

"Alright then, Finn. Let's get out of here."

Poe flipped a final switch and the TIE fighter hovered. The abruptness of it forced Finn's stomach through the floor. These things moved much faster than the shuttles and troop transports he was used to. The velocity took him by surprise. His senses returned a moment later, though, replaced by purpose. This was the home stretch. They were almost free.

Poe pushed the throttle forward and the TIE eased into motion. He turned immediately toward the nearby hangar exit. They only made it a second or two of flight, however, before something halted their movement. The craft jerked to the left, a movement that caused whiplash for Finn inside his helmet. He put a hand on his forehead, for what good it did.

"What the hell was that?" Poe asked, looking around the cockpit.

Finn looked down at the weapons console before him and realized it gave him a brief system diagnostic. Smart, so the pilot could focus on flying. He quickly ran down the list. As the only entry in red, the problem was easy to find.

"The fuel line is still attached!" He shouted.

"Okay, give me a second. There has to be a release in here somewhere." Poe began to scour the console before him.

Finn was about to ask something, but another jolt rocked the fighter. Finn looked through the rear-facing camera before him to see the stormtroopers in the hangar had taken notice of their antics. Several of them peppered the craft with red blaster fire. At least three teams went about setting up a heavy gun of some sort. Finn looked to his readout to find the shields, already at a low percentage, dropping with each hit.

"Our shields are failing!" He called back.

"Give me a second," Poe repeated.

"Thirty percent! We don't _have_ a second!" Finn felt panic grip his heart. He didn't want to have made it so far only to be shot down before they ever left the Star Destroyer.

"Oh, blast it!" Poe shouted.

Before Finn had a chance to respond, his world turned upside down. He completely lost all sense of direction as the fighter performed a full spin. A metallic crack filled the cockpit a second before something snapped and tore. They righted, Poe punched it, and they were whisked off into the depths of space. The diagnostics sill read the fuel line as attached, but clearly that little trick broke it off somewhere.

"This thing really moves!" Poe shouted as they passed through the hangar entrance and into the eternal night outside.

The moment they were away, green laser blasts engulfed the space around them. Poe took evasive maneuvers, and Finn almost lost his lunch. The fighter spun in a dip to the left, followed by a sudden swing back upward. Had Finn not been fighting for control of his intestines, he would've appreciated how deftly Poe weaved in and out of the laser storm.

"Sorry, kid. Gotta turn up the inertial dampeners." he called back.

Poe audibly messed with a dial. Every click made the ride more bearable until the cockpit settled into a fine rhythm. Finn could still feel the movements, but not to the point where they threatened to upset him. Without the possibility of testing his helmet's waste filtration system, the trip was actually kind of fun. He smiled, despite himself.

"That's _much_ better," he even found time to crack a joke. The adrenaline must've been getting to him.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Poe's voice came through strained from effort. He completed a big, shallowly upward slice before continuing. "Completely forgot. Might be a bit wobbly when we make it back to the surface."

Finn smiled at their banter. He knew it was completely and utterly stupid to have such thoughts right then and there, but he wondered if they could be friends when this was all said and done. Poe certainly seemed the affable type, and Finn needed a companion or two. Then, something Poe said struck home with him.

"The surface?" He repeated. "What, you mean the surface of _Jakku_? We can't go back there!"

"We have to get my droid," Poe insisted. "BB unit, orange and white, one of a kind."

"Your what?" Finn coulnd't believe what he was hearing. "I don't care how unique it is, just leave it and get a new one!"

"Not a chance, pal. This droid has a map straight to Luke Skywalker."

Finn paused just long enough to let those impossible words wash over him. "Oh, you've gotta be _kidding_ me!"

At a lack of any other options, Finn settled in for this crazy ride. What was supposed to be a simple rescue had turned into way more than he bargained for, than he ever dreamed of.

…

Aboard the bridge of the _Finalizer_ , Kylo Ren watched the action taking place outside his flagship Star Destroyer. He stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, a passive observer of the miniaturized war going on inside the blackness of space. Green plasma bolts filled the void like a viridian cloud, obscuring the TIE fighter they chased.

"Take them down!" shouted General Hux behind him.

"I can't get a clean shot!" One of the battery officers shouted.

"Computer guidance can't keep up. They're moving too fast!" Another added.

"They're just one ship! You're the best in the galaxy, don't let them disgrace you!" Hux continued to shout orders.

Fools, the lot of them. Everyone thought that a single ship should be a simple target, but none realized that their collective failure was _because_ of it. They had pumped so much plasma into the area around the TIE, none of them could actually see it anymore. The thousands of dazzling light sources also made it difficult for the Destroyer's systems to hone in one such a small and fast target. This was one of the reasons fighters were so important. They could focus on individual targets larger ships simply could not. However, by the time the _Finalizer_ scrambled her wings, this particular target would be long gone.

"A reward to anyone who brings down that fighter!" Hux yelled, as if that would somehow inspire his men to do better.

Kylo had seen enough. He casually raised his right hand in the general direction of the fleeing starfighter. He opened himself up to the Force. The agonizing buzz of life itself flowed through him as he focused on the task at hand. Down through the Star Destroyer his consciousness traveled, a piece of himself guided by a uniting will. It grabbed onto one of the dorsal laser canons, and gave him control of it in doing so. With is senses boosted by the will of the Force, he made out the tiny black speck that was the TIE fighter making its way to the dusty planet below. Ren swiveled his telekinetically controlled gun to point at the enemy.

A single long burst issued forth from the turret. Every shot found a home upon the fighter. Under such an assault its shields melted in almost and instant, and then a clean hit sent it spiraling toward Jakku. Kylo put down his hand to watch it go.

"It is done," he said without taking his eyes off the doomed craft.

"Very good, sir," Hux said without missing a beat. "Should we deploy scout ships to locate the wreckage?"

"No," Ren answered simply.

"No?" Repeated the general, clearly surprised at the instruction. "What if they survive?"

"We already have the information we wanted. One terrorist and his traitor friend aren't a threat to us, now. Sending aerial scouts to the planet would only frighten the populace, and we would lose the droid. The plan stays the same. We send ground teams to investigate and find the droid without causing a panic."

"As you wish, sir," acquiesced General Hux.

Kylo continued to stand and watch the fighter fall. It would impact the atmosphere, soon. It mattered not. No one on Jakku could stand in his way. He would have the information from the droid, and then continue on his mission. This little speed bump was inconsequential.

…

Finn's eyes shot open. He looked up at a glaring blue sky, devoid of clouds. The sun blazed off to his right, and he squinted in a vain attempt to shut it out. Strange, last he remembered, he had been sitting in the gunner seat of a TIE fighter, blasting through space with a mad pilot at the helm. They had been doing well until...

He sat up. His breaths came in shallow gulps for air as all of the adrenaline from just moments ago came rushing back. He couldn't see inside his helmet, couldn't breath, so he tossed it away. The clean desert air filled his nostrils, smelling of hot sand along with sour smoke. The latter stung his eyes as well. He looked to the source to find the wreckage of a special forces TIE fighter. His heart sank while dread filled his every sense. He got to his feet, almost completely ignoring the aches in most of his body.

"Poe!" Finn screamed as he sprinted toward the wreckage. "Poe!"

What remained of the cockpit was easy enough to find. Finn dug through the metal, thankful for his gloves to keep out the surely scalding debris. Sweat poured from his brow, more from exertion than the heat. Panic drove his hands, while anxiety raised his heart rate. The only reason Finn survived the crash was his sealed protective armor. Without that, Poe didn't stand a chance. Finn knew this perfectly well, but that didn't stop him from looking. No, his search kept on until he found something buried in the wreckage.

There amongst the smoke, ash, and twisted metal, lay Poe Dameron's jacket. Finn's hands trembled as he grabbed it up. A part of him had hoped to find the man buried beneath it. Instead, he found only sand. By some miracle—or, perhaps a cruel joke—the jacket was completely unscathed. No cuts, nor rips, nor even burns marred its surface. A few pats to drive away the ash, and it looked good as new. Poe, however, was nowhere to be found.

Finn stood and began to run around the dune field, shouting Poe's name in a frantic attempt to find him. A response never came. All around him was just endless sand, broken occasionally by rocks or scattered pieces of TIE fighter, but nothing even vaguely humanoid. Finn kept at it for what felt like hours, circling further and further away from the wrecked fighter. With each step, however, the truth became more and more apparent.

Eventually, Finn stopped looking. He fell back on his rump to sit there for a moment, starring at the only thing he had left of his newest friend. After all that effort, everything they'd just been through together to escape from the First Order, and Finn had been the one to survive? It wasn't right. Poe had an important mission to accomplish, but Finn had nothing at all. Why should he be the one to get away? What purpose did he serve?

But, maybe that _was_ his purpose. Finn stripped himself of all but the black undersuit beneath his armor. Then, he donned the jacket. It fit him perfectly, as if it were made for him. A determined set to his gait, he picked a direction and walked. Poe had trusted him with the details of his mission. It was now Finn's duty to see it fulfilled. For his new friend, and possibly even the fate of the galaxy, he would complete Poe's goal. The first step was finding his orange and white BB unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: This one was way harder than I expected it to be. I'd never written any sort of aeronautics before. I've never even had a character take a plane ride. But, the New Jedi Order series has quite a bit of flying, so I used it as a point of reference. I hope the TIE fighter bits came out okay.
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos and a comment.


	6. A New Chapter

Rey awoke a bit later than she would've wanted, but a late start was better than a lack of sleep. She'd found out the hard way that sleep deprivation and precarious old wrecks didn't mix. Explaining the one day strolled up to the outpost with a split skull had been fun, especially when Ashla found her. So, Rey tried to get at least six hours of sleep a night, but usually more.

Yesterday, her Togruta friend had been by to fix her new droid companion, BB-8. When Rey extracted herself from her hammock, she found the little guy happily rolling around, softly beeping to himself. He must've been so happy to finally have his locomotion back. Rey couldn't help but smile at him.

She left him alone to go about her morning routine, which included brushing her teeth and dipping into her food stores for a light breakfast. She inspected the old durasteel barrel with a grimace. The dried meats, sturdy breads, and pickled vegetables were all getting low. She'd have to stock up soon, which meant at least one boring day of hunting and canning. She huffed. Great.

The best way to take her mind off that was a bit of scavving. So, after breakfast, Rey gathered up her staff and made to head out.

"Alright, BB-8. I'll be back soon!" The droid tootled a reply at her. Rey made it three steps toward the door but stopped short. "Wait, do you have a fusion cutter?"

BB-8 gave a few short boops and then spun one of his orange tool disks to the fore. A slim door bisected it laterally, and then a fusion cutter popped out. The droid gave it a few sparks for emphasis.

"Promise to stay within sight of me at all times?" Rey asked. BB-8 put away his cutter and gave his confirmation. "Alright, come on."

BB-8 whistled in excitement and followed Rey to her speeder. Just as they had when they first met, Rey nestled him in the net on the speeder's side and then sped off for the Imperial shuttle she'd told Ashla about.

Upon arriving, she immediately started looking for old stormtrooper equipment, though she realized the probability of finding any was slim to absolutely none. Flipping through bins, riffling through lockers, and looking underneath the remaining floor boards turned up nothing, which was exactly what she expected. It was hard to even feel disappointed, though. Whatever gear had been on this ship probably got gobbled up the moment it touched down. While it would've been great to find an old glove or something, that she didn't was par for the course.

Instead, Rey set about taking the thing apart. Despite their small size, these ships were deceptively advanced. Every inch housed some sort of component, or electronic, or important looking doodad beneath the paneling. They had been designed for efficiency and efficacy. As such, no piece was wasted.

For every bit of metal Rey cut out, she was rewarded with something else to throw in her pack. The addition of a helper made the process even more profitable. BB-8 served a dual role. Most of the time, he would help her in extracting baubles from the shuttle. When not doing that, he did a great job of dragging her pack outside and dumping the contents. Once Rey found out he could move stuff around, she laid the net on the to make it easier for him to do.

In this way, they formed an assembly line of sorts. BB-8 would help remove pieces where he could, and then take the pack out when it became full. In the meantime, Rey continued her work, placing things in a pile for BB-8 to store away when he came back.

Together, they stripped the ship down to its framework in a matter of hours. Rey was amazed. It would've taken her at least a full day to harvest the thing on her own, maybe even two depending on how many things were left intact. Now, they were done while the sun was still high in the sky. They probably didn't have time to search another wreck, but they could go back to Niima and return home to relax. That sounded nice, for once.

Rey hooked her net onto the speeder, made a little nest to stick BB-8 in, and mounted up to cruise back to Niima Outpost. The trip was uneventful, which was always a good thing. Nothing was always better than something, because on Jakku, _something_ was usually a bad thing.

They arrived at the outpost. Rey parked closer than she normally would. BB-8 was vulnerable every second he spent in that place. The briefer their trip, the better. Rey extracted him from his spot in her net and then took the net down, all the while with one eye on her robotic friend. Already, she felt all eyes on them. A few even gave BB-8 very obvious long looks. Most knew better than to come within staff distance with her, but some would still be dumb enough to try.

With a final scan of the area, Rey decided to move. She took the net in her left hand, while her right held the staff.

"Arm's reach, BB-8. Do _not_ wander off," She said. The droid gave her an affirmative few beeps. "Alright, good. Let's go."

She marched straight up to the area behind the concession stand, where she could already see Jek waiting for her. His eyes flickered more than once to the droid at her side. The attention made her uncomfortable. Though Rey could hear him rolling, she still checked multiple times to see if BB-8 was still there. If he were any closer, he'd be rolling up her heel. But that was good.

"Hi, Rey," Jek called when she was close enough.

"Jek," she returned, perhaps a bit colder than necessary.

"Who's your friend?" It wasn't that Jek asked about BB-8 that annoyed Rey so much, but that it had been his opening line. No _how are yo_ uor _good haul today_ , just an immediate predatory glare.

"He's not for sale," she said. For emphasis, she tossed the loose end of the net at him.

"Alright, alright." Jek put his hands up and tried to look innocent. "Go see the big man. I'll get this sorted out." He took the net.

Without saying anything, Rey walked away, BB-8 an inch beside her. She made for the back of the line at the concession stand which seemed just slightly longer than normal. Though, maybe that was her discomfort with the situation making it seem worse than it was. The rational part of her brain knew this full well, but the paranoid part told her to be on guard. In her experience, the latter was right more often than the former.

She had almost made it to the back of the line when BB-8 started hollering about something. He produced a loud series of beeps—some of them surprised, some distressed—while repeatedly bumping into her calf.

"What, BB? What is it?" She looked at him and tried to get a read on what he was saying, but the words simply came too fast.

The droid pulled out his fusion cutter and pointed it somewhere in the crowd. Rey followed his indication and found a man with dark skin, a black one-piece suit, and a brown jacket with red on one shoulder.

"That man? What about him?" She asked.

BB-8 actually slowed down enough to give a coherent answer, one that made her heart stop.

"He _what_?" Rey let incredulity slip into her voice. When she again looked at the man, it was with an air of confused determination. "Alright, let's go."

Rey and her droid approached the man, who had the look of someone desperately trying to seem like he belonged. He tried too hard to avoid looking at people, set his shoulders in an obviously nonchalant posture, and at one point crossed then uncrossed his arms. His discomfort made Rey uncertain, to the point where she considered changing her approach. But, she was already more than halfway there. No use turning back now.

"Excuse me," she called to him in a business-like tone. He didn't seem to hear, at first, but turned his head once she was close enough. He tried to look away real quick, but must've realized he was caught, for he met her eyes thereafter.

"Um... hello?" He tried cautiously.

"Where'd you get that jacket?" Rey cut straight to the point.

He hesitated. "I'm sorry, do I _know_ you?"

BB-8 became impatient. He rolled forward, with a beep as a battlecry, and produced some sort of electric welding device. He touched this to the man's shin, which caused a charge to arc into him.

The man recoiled. "Ow, hey!"

"The jacket, where did you get it?" Rey tried again.

The man began, "why do you care about- Hey!" BB-8 shocked him again. "Stop. It."

"BB-8," Rey scolded. The droid complained, but relented. "My droid says that jacket belonged to his master. He says you stole it."

The man's expression shifted. What was once tight with pain and anger, slackened in surprise. He looked down at the droid. Rey didn't like the darkness on his face.

"Your master. Was his name Poe Dameron?" The man asked. BB-8 looked straight at him and gave a series of astonished beeps.

"How do you know that?" Rey voiced the droid's concerns in plain speech.

"I knew him. Poe was taken prisoner by the First Order. I helped him escape, but..." he gave the droid a long look. "He didn't make it. I'm sorry."

BB-8 hung his head low as it could go and let out a long mournful whine. Rey considered the man for a moment before she dropped to a kneel beside her friend. She put a hand on his head and did her best to give him a consoling look.

"Are you sure?" Rey asked without taking her gaze away.

"Yeah," confirmed the man. "We stole a TIE fighter, but we were shot down. This jacket was all I found of him."

BB-8 shot a few accusatory sounds. The man looked at him in bewilderment. He clearly didn't understand droid speak.

"So you just took it?" She translated.

"I didn't know what else to do!" The man exclaimed. He regained himself a moment later to continue in a calmer tone as he addressed BB-8 "Look, I'm sorry. He was a good man. But I'm here, now, and I'm going to complete his mission. We have to get you off Jakku."

"Off Jakku? You're leaving?" Rey said. She just had to confirm it for herself, make sure it was real.

"I have to get this droid back to the Resistance. It has vital information."

BB-8 chimed in, reminding Rey that he had told her as much. He agreed with the man about the necessity of leaving the planet. His sounds lacked their normal energy. The droid seemed almost lazy in how quiet and slow its words came. Rey's heart sank just listening to him, but she respected his resoluteness. BB-8 had a job to do, and this Poe probably wouldn't want him standing around wasting time mourning him. There would be plenty of chances for that later.

"Okay," Rey said. "Do you have a plan?"

"Yeah," the man said. "Sort of. We need a ship."

"Plenty of ships in the junkyard. I'm sure we could find one that works," Rey supplied.

"Then lets not waste any time." He took a step past her, but then stopped and turned back around. "I'm Finn, by the way."

"Rey." They shook hands.

"Alright, Rey. Let's get out of here."

Finn led the way toward the junkyard, despite the fact that Rey was doubtless more familiar with the area. She fell in behind him, BB-8 at her side, happy to be led. It allowed her to take in everything that just happened. It simply didn't feel real. How many years had she spent wishing to be rid of Jakku? She'd honestly lost count. Now, some stranger shows up and promises to whisk her away? It felt like a dream, something that only happened in stories. Yet, here she was, about to steal a ship and finally fulfill her dream. She knew nothing about this _Finn_ , but if he was her ticket off the planet, then she would do anything to help him out.

Moving through the crowds was easy enough. The general diversity of the outpost's local people played to their advantage. BB-8 still drew some unwanted stares, but the two humans blended in well enough. It made their job all the easier. No one was forbidden from entering the junkyard, per say, but the fewer questions they had to answer along the way meant a smoother journey.

They only walked for about a minute before Finn, without saying a word, spun around, grabbed Rey by the biceps, and all but flung her into a nearby tent. She was almost ripped off her feet, but Finn kept her upright. BB-8, clearly not prepared for the sudden change in direction, slipped in a second later. Rey gave Finn a look of shock and confusion, which he returned with one of sheer horror.

"What? What is it?" Rey asked, shrugging out of his grip.

"Stormtroopers," Finn barked.

"What?"

" _Stormtroopers_ ," Finn whispered this time.

"What? Here?" Rey matched his tone. "Why would there be stormtroopers here?"

Rey went to poke her head out of the tent. Finn tried to stop her, but missed in his reaching out. There, speaking to a group of three aliens, stood a quartet of troopers in their white armor and grimacing helmets. One of the interviewees pointed toward the direction Finn and Rey had come from. The troopers started that way, and Rey quickly retreated back into the tent.

"Why are there stormtroopers here?" She asked Finn again, this time as incensed as him.

"Did you miss the part where I broke one of their prisoners out? They're looking for him, and the droid." Finn looked in the direction of the troopers. "We need to be careful."

"Okay, then, follow me," Rey said.

"Why should I follow _you_? I'm the professional, here," Finn argued.

"Because I know Niima Outpost like the back of my hand. We're not far from the junkyard, and I can get you there." Rey presented her case. It wasn't even that she wanted to lead, but because letting her do so presented the best chance of success.

"Okay," Finn nodded. "Lead the way."

Rey moved to the opposite side of the tent and poked out her head. Just as she suspected, there were no troopers in that direction. Without looking back she motioned for Finn to follow, and then slipped into the crowd. The whining crinkle of BB-8 rolling over the sand, followed by the flap of the tent, indicated her companions were with her. She took a deep breath, and focused.

They took the straightest path possible to the junkyard. Rey knew, no matter how familiar she was with the area, they were still woefully outnumbered. The First Order would find them sooner or later, sheerly through the merit have having more manpower. Rey just had to make sure that happened after they got on a ship, not before. The only advantage they had to that end was Rey could already see the junkyard ahead.

A trio of troopers were talking to a Duros man up ahead. Rey cut a path to the right to take her party past a tent and an unlit fire pit. This gave her a clear road to the yard. Not for long, however, as she heard more conversation muffled by helmet microphones which could only have come from stormtroopers. She cut back the way they'd just came from, a move that put them behind the last group of men. She hoped they didn't turn around.

Rey did her best to walk as if she owned the place, as if she had every right to be there. Acting like she belonged, hopefully, absolved her of any blame. In her heart, she knew this was nonsense. But, it was the thing that kept her focused. Not far now. No time to lose her nerve.

She ducked behind a piece of machinery which probably was not supposed to be there, Finn and BB-8 a moment behind. Rey leaned her head out the right side. Finn leaned out the left. With a whine, BB-8 peeked around Rey's leg. She looked around in every direction. There were some troopers way off to the left, but not close enough to be a problem. She slipped from the cover and passed into the junkyard without missing a beat.

Her head moved in constant motion as they pressed down the main causeway of the junkyard. Everywhere the eye could see were the dead husks of speeders, fighters, and even a few small freighters. Basically, anything that could be hauled back to the outpost ended up in the junkyard. Unfortunately, that made for a lot of corners and corridors, a thousand places for people to hide. They had to get out of the open.

"Through here, follow me," Rey said.

She took a step to the left, an attempt to dart down a narrow passage. That step was far as they made it.

"Hold it!" Shouted a microphoned voice.

A quartet of stormtroopers appeared from around a corner several feet ahead of them. With the lightning speed of professional soldiers they lined up next to each other and levied their weapons. Rey looked from them, to Finn, and back again. Her newest friend stood statue still, paralyzed by indecision.

"Hands up, now!" Shouted the rightmost trooper.

Slowly, Rey put her staff on the ground and then raised her hands just above her head. Finn had already done the same by the time she did. BB-8 hid behind her, head pointed to the sand, little body trembling.

"Got any ideas?" She asked Finn.

"I was kinda hoping you would."

"Shut up!" The trooper screamed. "You are in possession of First Order property. Surrender the droid, and submit yourselves for questioning."

"What do you want with us?" Rey asked. Finn gave her a pained look, and she just shrugged.

"I said be quiet," menaced the trooper. "By the authority of Supreme Leader Snoke, I order you to hand over the droid."

Snoke? Rey had never heard that name before. There would be time for pondering later. Right now, she had to figure a way out of this situation. She could always try to turn and run, hope to make it down the alley she'd been going for, but there's no way she could ever outrun a blaster bolt. Reasoning with them definitely wouldn't work, either. The only surefire way to escape was to give them BB-8. After all, she'd only known the droid for a few days. Was it such a great loss to surrender him? No, never. She hated herself for even entertaining such a terrible notion. There had to be another way.

"We've located the droid," one of the other troopers said. "It's with two locals." A pause. "No, not yet. We'll radio for backup if we need it."

"Last warning. Give up the droid or we will take it from you by force." The rightmost trooper wiggled his blaster rifle for emphasis.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," interjected a female voice from behind Rey, a voice that sounded eerily familiar. The scavenger girl looked back just in time to see a Togruta in a poncho, hood up, walk around Finn. Ashla placed herself a few feet between the stormtroopers and their quarry.

"Official First Order business, citizen. It doesn't concern you," the trooper warned.

"Oh, I'm feeling pretty concerned," Ashla quipped.

"Ashla, don't!" Rey begged as a million horrible scenarios flashed before her eyes.

Ashla didn't say anything. She just turned her head part of the way back toward Rey. All the human could see was her chin, and the dark lips that curled into a smile.

"I won't tell you again. Move aside."

"Or, what?" Ashla returned her attentions to the troopers. "Are you gonna arrest me?"

"You will be subdued taken into custody, or we can shoot you down right here and now. Your choice." Again, the trooper moved his weapon to show how serious he was.

"Shoot me?" She chuckled. "I'd like to see you try."

Ashla held her open right hand down at her side. From beneath her poncho, an object seemed to fly into it, as if thrown by some unseen third party. Strong fingers gripped the thing, which resembled a cylinder with flattened east and west sides. The borders were silver, while the sides were cut with a black material. There even appeared to be gold inlays near either end. The entire shape curved backward at a shallow crescent.

Ashla pressed a button. The object gave a sound both like a fiery whoosh and a small blaster firing. From its top projected a vibrant white blade, little more than an inch around and three feet long. It provided a high-pitched, quickly undulating hum.

The stormtroopers all took reflexive steps back. One even shouted in sheer surprise. Rey wanted to do both of the same, but fear and shock kept her rooted in place.

"Ashla?" She croaked. The Togruta completely ignored her.

"Is that a lightsaber?" One of the stormtroopers wondered aloud.

"Can't be," another shook his head. "The Jedi were wiped out."

"Well, clearly not," the first trooper gestured toward Ashla.

"Citizen," called the rightmost trooper, fear a tremor low in his voice. "You are in possession of an illegal weapon. Stand down, or—"

"Really?" Ashla cut him off. "You're still trying that?" She shook her head, and began to walk toward them.

"What do we do?" A trooper asked.

"Blast her!" Ordered the rightmost.

Almost all at once, the troopers opened fire. While most shots were on target, none penetrated Ashla's impeccable defense. Her lightsaber seemed to cry out as she whipped around in a dazzling display of twirls, spins, and slashes, deflecting the array of blaster bolts as if they were nothing but a minor annoyance. Every motion saw silver meet red. She swiped up to deflect one shot, twirled to block two more, batted away three with one arcing slice, spun it into even more, and gave a great long twirl to defeat several in succession. In this way, Ashla created an impenetrable wall of white energy in constant motion. The light show played out all around her, and she was calm as stone in the middle of it.

After a few steps, Ashla began to pick up speed. What was once a cool, slow walk became a jog, which transitioned into a run, until she were all out sprinting toward the enemy. The speed with which she moved did nothing to soil her defenses. She still moved her weapon in a roiling whirlwind, each motion of which caught another bolt or two.

When she reached the height of her speed, Ashla leapt into the air, backed by the bright desert sun. At the same time she threw her lightsaber, a move not Rey nor anyone else even saw. It embedded in the chest of the rightmost trooper. Now, instead of barking orders, all he could do was look down at the hilt sprouting from his armor as the intense blade spread blackened char around its impact point.

"Where'd she go?" The leftmost trooper asked, leading with his blaster as he looked up in the air.

"I don't know, I can't see her!" Shouted the one next to him as he mimicked the vain search.

"Just stay calm, man," said the trooper next to the impaled one. He tried to grab it a couple times but recoiled, afraid to touch the lightsaber. "Just stay calm, you'll be okay."

Of its own accord, the lightsaber spun laterally on its axis. It ripped through the chest and severed the left arm of the impaled trooper and then twirled in the air to slice a cavity in the chest of the adjacent man. It then flew out behind the line of the last two surviving men. At the same time, Ashla came back down in a crouch. The lightsaber landed in a hand at her side.

"There!" Cried one of the soldiers.

They turned on her and opened fire. Ashla stood from her crouch and charged them, deflecting bolts as she went. One of them went back at the trooper to her left. He stopped firing to hold the burn mark on his shoulder plate. This gave Ashla a window to slice up and block a bolt from the other trooper, and then bring her weapon down through the wounded one. She then twirled her saber to block one more blast before cutting down the final man.

Just like that, it was over. Standing ramrod still in her pile of bodies, Ashla deactivated her weapon. What struck Rey wasn't so much the violence or the shock, but how quiet it was. After all that fighting, all of the flying bolts and whirring lightsaber, Niima Outpost was once again silent, peaceful as always. Machines hummed in the distance, pockets of conversation filtered through into the junkyard. All the while, Rey could only stare at the woman who—even though she had been her friend for so long—she barely recognized.

"Ashla?" Rey said, voice pitiful and small. Ashla turned to face her, and finally their eyes met. She gave that same warm smile she always did.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Ashla said. "Come on. I'll explain everything later, but right now we need to get out of here."

A moment of silence.

"Yeah," Finn said. "Yeah, okay."

He walked toward Ashla. Rey could not. She felt as if her entire world was crashing down around her. Such unbridled destruction, such death, she'd never seen anything like it. Rey was happy to see her friend, elated that she had saved them, but a _Jedi_? Rey couldn't believe what her eyes just witnessed. It was too amazing and impossible to comprehend. Even the word, her mind struggled to form.

A whine from BB-8 snapped her back to reality. She looked down at the droid, who seemed to give her a comforting look even though his face couldn't make any sort of expression. He booped to let her know that they need to leave, and asked if she was okay. Rey smiled.

"No, I'm not afraid. Just surprised, is all," she said, words for his ears alone. She looked at the Togruta. "Ashla, lead the way."

"Alright, then. We can't afford to waste any time. I guarantee more are on the way."

Rey jogged to catch up with her friend, picking her way around the bodies while doing her best to avoid looking at them. She joined up with Ashla and Finn. Together, the four of them ran further into the junkyard.

What Rey said to BB-8 was a lie. She was terrified, but it was a fear mixed up with excitement, adrenaline, and determination. She even felt a little bad for those stormtroopers, though they had been about to shoot her. They were just following orders, most likely, and not actually evil. Their only crime had been to be in the wrong place. But, she couldn't think about them anymore. She had a task to complete, to help Finn with, and she was determined to see it through. She felt safe at Ashla's side. Rey had no idea what the implications of what she just saw were, but that was a bridge to cross at the appropriate time. Right now, her focus had to be on getting herself and her friends out in one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please remember to leave a review, whether you liked the chapter or not. Tell me what you think about Ashla's startling and totally unexpected reveal. I've choreographed many fight and action scenes before, but nothing with a lightsaber. They're very different from normal swords. I hope this little snippet was good enough.


	7. Pursuit

Rey sprinted through the desert, BB-8 and new friend Finn hot on her heels. Before her, tan poncho billowing while her head tails flapped in the wind, Ashla lead the way. She still had the deactivated hilt of a lightsaber clutched in her right hand. Rey's heart pounded in her chest, and her lungs burned with a fire hotter than Jakku's sun. She had never run so fast in her life. What's worse, there was no time to stop. There were no stormtroopes on their tail currently, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be. Every second wasted was another step closer to capture and death. That fact kept her feet moving, despite how very much she wanted to stop.

The events of the past several minutes played through her head on repeat. Strange that the first thing she did that day—scavenging with BB-8—felt like such a long time ago, almost like a memory of a distant dream. All of the action, meeting Finn, running from stormtroopers, it made mundane things like that seem unimportant and like someone she used to be.

Her attentions focused once again on the implement in Ashla's hand. Perhaps it was simply a reflection off the hot sand, but if she squinted she could still see the brilliant white blade which once stretched from the weapon. The legends always made lightsabers sound bigger and brighter, impossible objects of a bygone era. Ashla's was neither of these things. Awe inspiring yes, but oddly normal.

They had a million other problems such as a planet to escape, soldiers on their backs, whatever Finn's apparent mission was, and yet Rey couldn't stop staring at the weapon. No matter what she did, her eyes came back to the lightsaber without fail. Something about it entranced her, almost as if it called to her. Some unseen magnetism drew her to it. She had to get her hands on it, just to figure out why she so desperately wanted to.

"Do you have a plan?" Finn's shout from behind her snapped Rey back into the moment. She looked back over her shoulder at him, and almost tripped in the process. A few stumbling steps regained her balance, but also saw her now in the back of the line.

"Don't worry," Ashla called back. "I know exactly where we're going."

They ran for a few minutes more. Rey tried to focus on her breathing. She remembered in one of the Imperial field manuals she'd recovered that breathing was important when under any sort of physical strain. The bodies of humans and many other races needed oxygen to survive. The more she breathed, and the more effective those breaths were, then the easier all of this running would become. Scavenging gave her a boatload of strength and flexibility, but didn't do much for endurance. If she made it through this, Rey promised herself to go running more often.

The rows and rows of derelict speeders and smaller ships came to an abrupt end up ahead. They were approaching what Niima Outpost residents affectionately referred to as _the shipyard_. It was where all of the larger craft were stored. Everything from freighters, to cruise liners, to old warships ended up there. Even from this distance, she could make out the distinctive horizontal towering bridge of a _Victory-II_ Star Destroyer. Though, if she remembered correctly, only the back half of that ship survived.

The moment the four of them cleared the initial stacks, Ashla pointed off into the distance.

"There she is! That's our ticket out of here!" Ashla stated, though it was hard to tell exactly which ship she pointed at. The vessels here—of all shapes and sizes—weren't exactly cluttered, but there were still five or six near her indication.

"Which one?" Rey asked.

"The YT-1300, Rey," clarified Ashla.

Rey scanned the area and easily located the ship. They were, after all, a very distinctive design. However, they were not impressive.

"That thing? It's a piece of junk!" Rey declared.

Ashla paused. "...Careful who you say that to," she warned. "Just trust me. That's the one we want."

"How do you know it even still works?" Finn posed a very valid question.

"Oh, it'll take more than a few decades of neglect to ground her. Much more." There was an odd affection in Ashla's voice, one Rey couldn't quite place.

"Do you... _know_ this ship?" Finn gave voice to Rey's scattered thoughts.

"I'll explain later."

Rey could have pointed out that that was the second time Ashla had promised to explain later, but to do so would have been both petty and rather inappropriate. So, she carried on, following Ashla's b-line for the aging ship. She stood by her previous statement. It was an absolute piece of garbage, barely land worth, let alone suited for space flight. But, Ashla seemed to believe in it. Rey didn't trust the ship, but she _did_ trust Ashla. That was good enough.

They all continued on. For a time, the only sounds were that of frantic footfalls, deep breaths, and pounding hearts. Then, another filled the air. Quite literally, in fact. From high above them came a high-pitched wailing, almost like that of a young animal crying out. Rey slowed down a step and looked up at the sky behind her.

"What's that noise?" She asked.

"Karabast," Ashla said, almost too low to hear.

"TIE fighters! Those are TIE fighters!" Finn screamed.

"What!?" Rey looked from the sky, to him, and back again. "What do we do?"

"Run faster!" Ashla ordered.

Solid advice. Both Ashla and Finn managed to find a bit more speed in their strides. Rey attempted to follow them. Try as she might, there simply was nothing left to give from her legs. The limbs hurt too much. Her lungs burned too intensely. Though she willed herself forward, this was her maximum speed. Rey could feel herself falling behind. She had thought her situation desperate when the most they had to deal with was stormtroopers. Now, she understood the true meaning of despair.

The air burst from high behind her. Rey knew what it meant even before she glanced back. A trio of TIE fighters broke through the atmosphere They plunged straight down for a second before turning sharply to bear down on the fleeing quartet.

"The ramp release is on the front strut, left side up by the base," Ashla called back.

"What?" Rey shouted after her.

Ramp release? She wasn't making any sense. It wasn't until Ashla stopped suddenly—faster than any being should be able—spun on her heel, and faced down the encroaching fighters. Both hands held out in front of her, she activated her lightsaber. The white blade grew from its hilt to point at an acute angle toward the sky. Rey skidded to a stop and turned around, flabbergasted by what she saw.

"Ashla!" She screamed.

"Keep going, Rey! Get to the ship!" Ashla didn't look back. Instead, her gaze remained locked on the fighters.

"I can't just leave you here!"

"You can, and you will!" Ashla craned her head around to give that same confident smile she had before engaging the stormtroopers. "I'll be right behind you."

Rey hesitated a second longer before she turned and fled, Finn and BB-8 now with a considerable lead. She could already feel tears welling in her eyes, not of sadness, but of how helpless she felt. All her life, Rey had looked out for herself, solved her own problems. Now, she was completely at the mercy of someone else, of her only true friend in the entire galaxy. And she just left her to take on First Order war machines all alone? It was unthinkable.

The craft came closer and closer, moving at an indescribable pace. Despite the orders she'd been given, Rey turned around again when the sound became loud enough to rattle her eardrums. There she saw Ashla, a lone sentinel facing down monsters in flight.

All three TIE fighters opened fire upon her. Even as the massive green bolts rushed toward her, Ashla did not move. She flicked her lightsaber around in an impossible whirl of motion. Each move, every twirl, and spin, and swipe knocked away another twinned blast. As if they were nothing at all, the bolts fell away from her.

One bolt returned to its sender. The fighter to Ashla's left took the damage to its left wing. It spiraled out of control, careening toward the ground somewhere in the distance. A moment later, another bolt connected with the center TIE. This one went straight through the cockpit. At almost immediately losing two wingmates, the remaining fighter waved off.

The remaining heavily damaged fighter continued on its downward attack vector, just with no control given by the likely dead pilot. Rey saw what was about to happen a moment before it came to pass. She tried to call out, but the words died in her throat. All she could do was watch in horror.

The fighter hit the ground directly in front of Ashla. The wreckage tumbled straight into her. Ashla had just enough time to wave her empty hand in a high arc up over her head before she vanished in a cloud of smoke, debris, and fire. For a few agonizing seconds, Rey stood staring at he place where her friend had just been. Every ounce of hope in her willed Ashla to be okay, to be alive, but she knew this to be impossible. Still, Rey stood.

Something materialized within the flames, a dark shape that seemed to move against them. A second later, Ashla burst from the scene. The fire pushed out away from her as if manipulated by some unseen forcefield. The Togruta woman sprinted straight for Rey, deactivated lightsaber in hand. Rey felt a relieved smile split her face.

"What are you doing? I told you to run!" Ashla added in some frantic gestures for emphasis. Happy that her friend was alright, Rey did as she was told.

Their destination ship was close, moreso than she remembered. Finn had already reached it and lowered the boarding ramp. He stood upon it now, while BB-8 was nowhere to be seen, though Rey assumed he'd already entered the craft.

"Come on, come on!" Finn shouted at them, barely audible in the distance.

"Don't just stand there, you'll get shot!" Ashla called back. At her words, Finn gave a hesitant start before sprinting up into the ship.

Not wanting to get scolded herself, Rey dashed straight up the ramp and into the ship. Even at this quick and panicked glance, Rey could tell the thing had seen better days. A light layer of sand covered pretty much everything. There were missing panels, a few frayed wires, and rust in the corners of every metal sheet. Still, it appeared more or less in one piece.

"Take the next two rights!" Instructed Ashla, her voice now muffled by the ship itself.

Rey followed these directions and immediately found herself in the cockpit. It had consoles to the left and right, the latter of which had a chair, and a complex instruments board straight ahead. The glass, thankfully intact, featured a single round pane surrounded by two layers of elongated trapezoidal sections. Two seats had been placed near the instruments panel, the right one oversized and a bit worn in the back pad.

Ashla burst into the cockpit a few breaths after Rey and immediately fell into the leftmost seat. Without missing a single second, she began pressing buttons and shifting around a few levers, both in the console under her hands, and also on an over head bunch Rey hadn't even seen before.

"What do you need me to do?" Rey asked.

"Ever been on a starship before?" Ashla asked while twisting a knob.

"Not a working one."

"Then sit down and don't touch anything." For emphasis, the Togruta spun the unoccupied oversized chair toward Rey, who sat in it without complaint.

Likely having heard them board the ship, Finn entered the cockpit.

"We ready to go?" He said, sweating and a bit frantic.

"Almost," Ashla said, still adjusting stuff. "It's like someone came in here and messed with everything with the sole purpose of making her unflyable," she complained.

Finn paused. " _Can_ you fly this thing?"

"This particular thing?" Ashla specified. "No, I was never allowed. But don't worry, I have plenty of time behind the stick."

She pressed one more button and then, with eyes closed, flicked a switch. The ship whined and rumbled, and gave a great shuttering heave which sent Finn back against the door jam. A moment, just long enough for Rey to wonder if it was going to work, and then the lights came on. A whirring filled the cabin while the engines spooled up, which was replaced by a low hum.

"Yes!" Ashla clapped in celebration, and then grabbed the controls. "Alright, lets get out of here."

She pushed a button, which caused something to ignite under the ship. All at once, it rose straight up into the air. Rey felt her stomach plummet through the floor, and then the meager breakfast she'd eaten threatened to come back up. This all passed in a moment, however as her body adjusted to the vertical movement. The climb was Finn's indication to sit down. He took the seat behind Rey, rotating it to look out the windows before he did.

After they were sufficiently high up in the air, Ashla pointed the nose skyward. It wasn't much, but enough to make Rey's insides to somersaults once again. BB-8 tried to join them at the same time as this happened, but suddenly found himself rolling uphill. He gave several beeps in protest. Rey considered helping him until she turned around and saw him, head forward, push up into the cockpit. He stopped right next to her. She gave him a smile, and then looked at the sky.

"Just give me a second, here. Plotting a course for hyperspace," Ashla said as she pushed some buttons near the center of the console.

"You're going to jump in atmosphere?" Finn raised his eyebrows.

"Yep," Ashla responded simply.

"Is that safe?"

"Nope," she shook her head, "but we don't have time to enter orbit, so I'm doing it."

Ashla pressed her final button. Something squealed to life from an unknown point in the back of the ship. She put a hand on a horizontal plunger next to the buttons she'd just been pressing. At the sound, the determined set to her shoulders sagged. The alien took a sharp breath and then looked behind her, as if she could see the source of the disturbance.

"Or not," she said.

"What? What is it?" Rey also looked around, though her inspection meant even less.

"There's something wrong with the hyperdrive. It isn't spinning up correctly," explained Ashla.

"Does it work?" Rey continued to prod.

"Yeah, it works, it's just taking a minute." Ashla turned back around in her seat and sunk into it, arms at full extension on the controls. "Come on, old girl."

"We might not have a minute." Finn rose from his chair and pointed. "Look."

Several shapes descended from the clouds. Though a considerable distance away from them, they gained quickly. Rey didn't have to get a good look to know they were TIE fighters. Whereas there were only three before, this must've been an entire squadron. The breath caught in her throat. She looked to Ashla for reassurance.

"Okay, then," the Togruta said. She leveled out the ship and began to spin it around. "The good news is they can't follow us all at once. They'll get in each other's way."

"The bad news?" Finn asked, and Rey wished he hadn't.

"Our deflectors aren't working."

"Oh, well that's just _great_." Finn threw his hands up in frustration.

"Strap in, kids. This is gonna get messy," warned Ashla.

Ashla leveled out the ship, leaned forward, and the ship blasted off. The sudden movement sent BB-8 flying back down the hallway. He hit the wall somewhere out of sight with a loud _clang_ and several angry bloops. Rey plastered against the back of her chair, completely unable to move against the forces working against her. Finn held onto the side console before him with both hands. On the edge of his seat, he appeared dangerously close to falling out of it.

"Sorry," Ashla called. "The inertial dampers aren't working right, either." She messed with a dial. "I can only get them to eighty-five percent."

"Is that bad?" asked Finn.

"They're supposed to be at ninety-seven at the lowest," she explained. "Makes it _very_ difficult to fly. Just hang on, we'll get through this."

In all the confusion, Rey hadn't realized they were flying straight toward the TIE fighters. All at once, the enemy craft vectored toward them. Several attack formations coalesced from the swarm. There were too many to count, and all of them looked angry.

"Um... Ashla? Maybe we should fly _away_ from them?" Rey warned.

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing," insisted Ashla.

She increased the speed of their ship even further. All Rey could do was hang on for dear life and watch the buzzing enemies come even closer. The two fronts approached each other at a rapid pace, far quicker than she had been mentally prepared for. The fighters spread out in a tall formation, weapons pointed down at their target while it came on.

The second they were close enough, the fighters opened up. Overlapping fields of twinned green blaster bolts ripped in a wide field around the ship. Rey squinted against the dazzling light show. However, her view of it became quickly distorted.

Ashla swept left through the hail and then rolled back right, the rotation allowing her to shoot the tiniest of gaps in the fire. She then punched it at a shallow angle downward until the ship almost skipped across the ground, before spiraling back upward, all the while narrowly avoiding certain death. Ashla pushed something and the ship kicked back to level, a maneuver that brought the nose down just in time to dodge even more fire.

One more little maneuver, and they were clear. Rey let out the breath she hadn't been aware of holding. She almost couldn't believe it. That she'd been mostly unable to see what was going on made the certainty of death even more concrete. That she had survived was almost unfathomable. Despite herself, all she could do was laugh for the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"Don't celebrate yet," Ashla scolded, "this is far from over."

She pressed a button on the console, and a little screen lit up. It took Rey a second to realize this was rearward view of their craft. Behind them, the TIE fighters were adjusting their trajectory. They reformed that wide shape they had made before and once again opened up. This time, their shots had to chase down their target. Ashla countered with sweeping motions to the right and then left. Most attacks narrowly missed, but they still did. Rey watched as they kicked up plumes of sand all around her, but none made contact.

Ashla maneuvered out left again, and then jerked right and downward. They suddenly were in a canyon, the narrow walls passing them by in a blur. Rey knew this place. It was a little more than a hundred miles away from Niima Outpost. Had they traveled so far in such a short amount of time? Were all spacecraft this incredibly fast? There would be time for these questions later.

Rey expected all of the TIE fighters to chase them. However, looking at the camera revealed two things. One: Only two flights of them broke off to give pursuit. Two: They were fading into the distance. Somehow, the much bigger and doubtlessly heavier ship was managing to outrun them, even in the canyon.

The twelve pursuing fighters began their assault. Ashla turned left, then right and down. Her movements were slow and calculated, short and steady to avoid the earthen walls on either side. She kicked up with a roll, and straight through a little archway hanging off the side of the canyon. Rey grimaced and nearly closed here eyes, not convinced they would make it through until they actually did. Was that necessary? There was plenty of canyon to go around. Ashla could have easily not flown through that thing. Rey looked over at her pilot and was shocked to see a satisfied smirk on the Togruta's face. Was she actually _enjoying_ this?

One of the fighters tried to follow through the arch, but missed and instead collided with it. This caused a rock to come loose and strike another into the ground. Another still cut too wide around a shallow curve and ended up in the wall. They were dropping like flies.

Ashla brought her ship once again low to the ground. This time, the maneuver took it within a field of big rocks, boulders, and a few stalagmites. She weaved between them, movements that always seemed one step ahead. The fighters were not so lucky. The first few that tried to navigate the stretch ended up splattered on the rocks in seconds. The rest got wise and pulled up. They tried to fire down at their target, but the rocks provided cover while the path to avoid them was unpredictable. Their shots weren't even close.

As Ashla cleared the field, a loud hum filled the cockpit. It rapidly descended in pitch before vanishing completely. When it finished, Rey could see the end of the canyon up ahead.

"Rey, help me. Grab this silver lever, here," Ashla said. Rey hesitated, and then—with a quizzical look—took the bar to Ashla's right. "Yes, that one. Hold it tight. The moment I say so, I need you to push it all the way forward. Can you do that for me?"

"I... I'll try," Rey said.

"There is no try, Rey, not anymore. You either can, or you can't." Ashla's words were harsh, but firm and supportive. Rey took a determined slant to her gaze.

"I can do it," she said.

"Good. Now, stand by. Wait for my signal."

Rey tightened her fingers in a death grip around the lever. Already, she felt her palms begin to sweat. She wanted to wipe off her hand, but doing so ran the risk of not having the lever when Ashla needed to. So, she grinned and dealt with it. Nothing else mattered beyond getting the four of them out of this mess. If that meant Ashla needed Rey's help, then she would never dream of compromising that.

Ashla sped toward the end of the canyon. She probably wanted to make it all the way to the end, but the hail of green laser fire which took them the moment they cleared the rock field made that impossible. The Togruta cut sharply to the left, and then climbed up at a steep angle. The only thing any of them could see, now, was blue sky. A pit grew in Rey's stomach, but the good kind. This was it. She was finally leaving.

"Get ready, Rey," Ashla said.

Rey tightened her grip even further, the muscles in her arm and shoulder tensed one stretch away from a push.

"Now!"

Rey pushed the lever forward. The same descending hum filled the cabin, but this time a stark visual accompanied it. The blue sky stretched around them in a way that didn't seem physically possible. The hum dissipated, and the ship plunged into a tunnel of deep blue and black, and streaking white lines all around. All at once, the sounds of battle faded. No longer could Rey hear the laser fire missing the ship by inches, or how the wind buffeted the hull. The only noise came from internal systems in the ship buzzing, whirring, and occasionally beeping. It took Rey a moment to realize what all of this meant. The streaks of light, the silence, the darkness. They were in hyperspace.

Ashla's entire body slumped as if years of tension released all at once. She let out a heavy sigh and pushed her chair away from the console. It rolled her to a spot just shy of the middle of the cockpit. She locked eyes with Rey, and smiled. Rey returned the expression instantly. The scavenger then directed it to Finn, who stood from his chair. He punched toward the ground and gave a hoot.

"Yeah! That's what I'm talking about!" He put a hand on his forehead. "Oh, I can't believe we got away!"

"I told you I knew what I was doing," Ahsla said.

"Yeah," Finn chuckled. "Yeah, you did."

"I didn't know you were such a good pilot!" Rey exclaimed.

"Well, I learned from the best," Ashla tried to deflect the praise, but such humility only made her seem even greater.

"And not just that, either. Why didn't you tell me you were a Jedi, Ashla?" Rey tried to keep the slight accusatory tone out of her voice. She really did.. Her friend seemed to hesitate before answering.

"Not Ashla," she corrected with a slight shake of her head.

"What?" Rey didn't understand. Ashla sighed again, even bigger this time.

"Now that the loth-cat's out of the bag, I might as well come clean," she said. "I'm sorry I lied to you for so long, Rey, but I had to protect my identity. I'm not Ashla. My name is Ahsoka Tano."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had planned on saving this reveal for much later, but I decided there was no point. Anyone who read the Ahsoka novel had her pegged the moment the name Ashla came up. Those who hadn't figured it out yet got it the moment that white l ightsaber came into play. Had I delayed any longer, I would've been purposely withholding information from the readers as a way to artificially build tension, which would have made the eventual reveal meaningless to most people. So, Ahsoka gave her real name earlier than intended.
> 
> If you liked this chapter, or even if you didn't, please remember to leave a review.


	8. Dueling Revelations

Down the upper corridors of the Finalizer, Kylo Ren walked in the just slightly bent forward posture he always adopted when in a hurry. The summons to the bridge had come in a few minutes ago. If there was one thing Kylo hated, it was to be interrupted. There was no point during any standard galactic day when he wasn’t in the middle of something, and missives like this kept him away from doubtless more important things.

By him walked various officers and higher ranking troopers, commonalities closer to the more vital ship centers. Engineers and the standard rank and file had little reason to be anywhere near places like the bridge, and so spent their time elsewhere. What personnel he did encounter gave him a wide berth, and he paid them no mind in return. The peasants were of little concern to him.

At the end of the hall he stopped briefly to let the doors open. Their joint in the middle split while unseen motors whirred to yank them in opposite directions up and down. Kylo strode through to find the bridge business as usual. Officers and ensigns worked at their various stations, some in rectangular pits either side of the walkway, while others stood at various stations. Pockets here and there discussed matters of assuredly utmost importance, all of them over a datapad of some make.

General Armitage Hux stood all the way at the end of the hall just ahead of the central walkway. Soldiers manned consoles to either of his flanks. The general looked not at them, but instead peered out at the dustball planet of Jakku which filled the lower-right of the window made from tessellating trapezoids. Kylo made his approach.

“Report, General. Why did you summon me?” Kylo asked before coming to a stop before General Hux.

“I have an update on the droid, sir,” Hux responded simply.

“Very good. Did you secure our property?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, sir, but no. They escaped.” Hux waited for Kylo to say something. When no response was given, he continued. “There was no sign of the pilot, but the traitor and the droid hijacked a light freighter and, after a brief chase by some of our best pilots, outran our fighters and entered hyperspace.”

“Outran, you say?” Kylo turned his gaze to the stars behind Hux. “There’s only one freighter in the galaxy that could outrun our fighters. Curious that it ended up here,” he mused.

“There’s something else, sir.” Hux said, cautious, voice quiet.

“Out with it then,” ordered Kylo.

Hux hesitated. Whatever this news was, he had a very difficult time saying it. He took a deep breath. “They had assistance, from a local girl and… and a Jedi.”

Kylo felt every muscle in his body tense up, to the point that he hunched his shoulders. His fists curled into tight balls. Dark waves of the Force pulsed through him and he did nothing to stop them. The entire bridge shook. Metal creaked and rumbled as unseen power pushed against them. People touched their foreheads, or covered their ears, or squeezed their eyes shut. One officer lost his footing and pratfell, head smacking against the metal floor. Sparks flew from a console somewhere to the left, and then more erupted in the face of an ensign.

The great shaking rattled through the entire bridge and even leaked out into the hallway. The windows warped and chattered, dangerously close to breaking. Some officers began shouting orders to come away, or to ready the blast shields, while one simply held his hat and waited. They had all seen this before, and knew what to do.

The Sith Lord took a deep breath. As he let it out, so too did the Force leave him. Gradually, the shaking stopped. All fell quiet over the course of several minutes. When it did, Kylo felt the stares of every eye on the bridge watch him. He wanted to scream at them, to punish each and every person present for their obvious failure, but that would not serve him. Instead, he ignored the glares, drank in their fear, and pressed on.

“The Jedi, did you get a description?” He more growled than spoke.

“A Togruta female, sir, older and in a grey poncho.”

“Her lightsaber?”

“White, Sir.”

Kylo turned away, gaze at the floor. Silence reigned. He breathed in deep, in and out through his nose. He would not lose control, not twice in the same day. Even through all of this bad news, the strife in his heart, he had to remain focused, for his enemies certainly did. To fall victim to his darker urges would be to give them an advantage, and he refused to do such a thing. He gave his orders.

“I want frigates dispatched to every planet within three sectors of here. Have ground and air teams search them for any sign of either the droid, or the Jedi. We cannot afford to lose them, not when we’re so close.”

“But, Sir, to do that would pull defenses away from our home system. We can’t afford—”

Kylo rounded on General Hux, who ceased his pointless quibbling the moment those black lenses met his green eyes. The Sith hovered inches from his face, pressing forward so that Hux had to take a step back.

“Get it done, General.”

And with that, Kylo left the bridge, destined for his quarters. He had a lot to think about, and even more training to do.

…

The metal of the Millennium Falcon clicked and shifted while the gentle winds of hyperspace caressed the exterior almost faint enough to be inaudible. Flickering blue lights of stars passing by at impossible speeds blinked along the faces of the three present in the cockpit.

“Ahsoka,” Rey said slowly, testing the word on her lips. It was certainly different than any human name she’d ever heard, but very pretty. At the sound of it, the Togruta took a deep breath. She seemed to compose herself a second later.

“Forgive me, I haven’t heard someone else say that name in… quite a while. It’s refreshing,” she said.

“I’ll have to say it more then, Ahsoka,” Rey threw in the name again just for emphasis.

“And you’re a Jedi?” Finn asked. “Or, you were, at least.”

“I still am,” corrected Ahsoka. “Temples come and go, but that doesn’t stop the Jedi from being Jedi.”

“I just can’t believe it,” mused Rey. “A Jedi! And right under my nose! How did I never catch on?”

“Again, I’m sorry for keeping it from you.”

“Oh, no, don’t be. I know you were keeping me safe. Keeping the planet safe, really. You don’t need to explain yourself,” Rey added quickly.

“Well, yes, I kind of do.” Ahsoka stood and walked toward the cockpit entrance, stopping just before it, the buzzing of the ship a stark soundtrack to her slow footsteps. “I have one more secret. You might not be as understanding of this one.”

“What is it?” Finn prompted.

“Stand up, Rey.”

The scavenger girl did as she was told, rising slowly from her chair, a concerned look for her friend’s back. Then, without being told, she took a few small steps toward the Togruta. As she did, Ahsoka spoke.

“Yes, I’m a Jedi. I fight with a lightsaber, when necessary, and I can use the Force to do amazing things. But I’m not the only one. There’s another Force-sensitive aboard this ship.”

Rey’s heart leapt into her throat. She inhaled sharply, and then looked over at Finn. It must be him Ahsoka was talking about, right? Rey would have known is she could used the Force. It seemed like such an obvious thing to miss. Whatever confusion she felt at this revelation was overshadowed by shock and awe as Ahsoka turned and met her eyes.

“Rey,” she said, voice soft and warm. “I’ve known from the moment we met. I’m so sorry I never said anything, but I had to protect you. The Force burns within you, hotter than the Jakkuan sun, and brighter than any star. It’s kind of hard to look at you sometimes, honestly.”

On the list of all the things that day Rey couldn’t believe, this stood on the very top. No, it simply couldn’t be possible. Her, a Force-user? A Jedi? She would’ve caught on at some point, right? The sheer possibility was too much for her to handle. Even as her heart and stomach fell in unison through the freighter floor, and her mind whirled at a parsec a minute, all she could do was stand there in stunned silence. Her eyes locked with Ahsoka’s, yet she saw nothing.

“Think about it, Rey,” Ahsoka said, barely audible to the stunned girl. “Have you ever thought you saw something before it happened, or found yourself particularly persuasive, or regained your balance after what you were sure was a fall?”

“No, I—” Rey hesitated. “I don’t remember. I don’t know.”

“Then take my hand, please.”

Ahsoka held up her right hand, palm out. Rey looked from it, to her friend, and back again, unsure of whether it was okay to. Every part of her, the ones that resisted change, screamed for her to turn around and never look back, to reject the notion that she could be anything other than a scavenger girl from Jakku. But one small part, the one that yearned for adventure, the one that wanted to be something more, that knew she could be, compelled her to reach up and interlock her fingers with Ahsoka’s.

The older woman closed her eyes. Instantly, Rey felt as if a lightbulb came to life within her. She was warm, and buzzing, and happy. Despite herself, she smiled. Her eyes closed and she focused on the sensation. Doing so made it even more intense, but added another layer. It was as if the feeling came both from the touch of her friend, but also from within herself. Her very core radiated with what could only be described as energy.

“Do you feel that?” Ahsoka said. “That’s the Force flowing from my body into yours. The Force within you should be rising up to meet it. You’ll feel it in your heart.”

“I feel it,” Rey said, voice breathy.

“The Force has gifted you with its embrace. You can be a Jedi. All you need is a little training, and a lot of hard work.”

Ahsoka removed her hand. Rey attempted to reach out and grab her again, but with her eyes closed found only air. Ahsoka’s side of the sensation faded, yet the one from within her remained. However, as the seconds waned on, it too left her. Rey did her best to reach out and claw at it, desperate to have the essence of life flowing through her again, but she didn’t know how. It slipped through her grasp.

“Where’d it go? What happened? Ashla, I can’t—” Rey felt herself growing more frantic with each syllable. A gentle touch on the side of her face brought her to stillness. It carried not warmth from the Force, but from the love of an old friend.

“Don’t worry, Rey. The Force is with you, always.” Ahsoka dropped her hand. “Even when you don’t reach out to it, it lives within you. I can teach you how to grasp it, but only if you’re willing.”

“Yes,” Rey said immediately. “I mean, of course, yes please.” She took a deep breath to center herself. “I want to learn.”

“I knew you would,” Ahsoka said with a smile. “How would you like your first lesson right here and now?”

“Okay,” Rey said, her excitement having returned.

“Before we can move forward with anything, you need to be able to call upon the Force at will. Unfortunately, they ways we do that are different for everyone. Often, the Force will come to us in times of distress or worry, and we aren’t even aware of it. I want you to find a quiet spot and think about everything that just happened, try to find a moment of calm, or clarity, or strength in the middle of it all, one that shouldn’t be there. That will be your catalyst for embracing the Force.”

“Okay,” Rey repeated. Though she was ready and raring to go, she just stood there, staring at her friend. She found while the mind was willing, the body had no idea what to do, or how to proceed. So, she remained motionless.

“Do you have a question?” Ahsoka asked.

“What? No,” Rey blurted. She racked her brain to come up with an excuse for why she’d been unresponsive, and found one immediately. “It’s just… thank you Ash— Ahsoka. For everything. For saving us. For flying the ship. For fixing BB-8. Everything.”

“What are friends for?” They shared a brief smile. “Now go, get to work.” Ahsoka turned Rey around by the shoulders and gave her a light shove toward the hallway. The scavenger girl scampered away.

Ahsoka watched her go, jealous of that youthful energy of hers. She had been just as eager to learn upon first making it to the Jedi temple all those years ago, though their age discrepancy was vast. Master Yoda always said people couldn’t be trained in the Force after a certain age, but she had firsthand proof of that falsehood. She certainly had her work cut out for her. The moment Rey rounded the corner and disappeared, Ahsoka let out a deep sigh.

“Well, that’s about enough excitement for one day,” she said to herself. She turned to the other human in the room, who had kept silent and mostly forgotten. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Ahsoka.” She held out her hand.

“Finn,” the man accepted the handshake. “I’m with the Resistance.”

“I didn’t ask,” Ahsoka said as they released. “But that’s nice to know.”

“Ah, well, I figured you’d want to know who you’re working with,” Finn scrambled for an explanation.

“Well, Finn, it’s good to have you aboard. Why don’t you get some rest? I can man the controls, for a bit.”

“Yeah, okay.” Finn said. As he clearly wasn’t sure what else to say, he instead elected for nothing and left Ahsoka alone in the cockpit.

When he was gone, she sank into the pilot’s chair. The weight of the day crashed down upon her. She rubbed her forehead with one hand, while the other idly messed with one of the currently unused control knobs. The ship would need some fixing, but later. She had dreamed of all the ways she would finally tell Rey about the Force. Fugitive aboard an old ship never crossed her mind. Still, she grinned. She gazed out the window so the effervescent tunnel of hyperspace entranced her. It was just like old times. If only they could see her now.

Time passed aboard the ship in a slow but steady manner. Finn honestly had no idea what time it was, though he thought it might still be morning. Not that it really mattered, of course. In the endlessness of space, time was more of an organizational thing, than a concrete concept. Now that he no longer belonged to the First Order, did he need to worry about time? Without a strict operational schedule to adhere to, what was the point of a clock?

Finn thought back to his years as a stormtrooper. It hadn’t even been a full day, yet, but it felt like forever ago. In retrospect, he never really fit in. He only ever had one friend, most of the other troopers didn’t like him very much, and he constantly was at odds with his superiors. Some people just weren’t cut out for military service, no matter how the Order tried to brainwash its soldiers.

Yet, Finn wasn’t sure if he fell into that category. Now that he had escaped, officially or not, he belonged to the Resistance. It seemed like the natural place to go. After all, he had much to offer the enemy of his former allegiance. If he wasn’t fit to be a soldier, why did he feel so determined to fight? No, perhaps it was the trooper corps that had been a poor fit, not the life of a warrior in general.

Finn hadn’t even realized he’d sat down to think about all of these things until he came to his senses. He leaned over some card table, or something, set in before a black leather cushioned booth in some corner of the ship. Looking around, this area seemed like a break room of some sort. What kind of people used this area before him? What was this ship like while still in service?

He contemplated going to find Rey, just so he’d have someone to talk to, but decided against it. She probably needed to focus on learning her Force mumbo-jumbo. He stayed away from Ahsoka for a similar reason. No need to interrupt the pilot in the process of flying the ship. Even BB-8 was nowhere to be found, though Finn assumed the droid was with Rey. Not that talking to it would’ve provided much substance, anyway, when he couldn’t understand it.

So, at a lack of anything else to do, Finn decided to explore the ship. However, this only proved marginally effective. Oddly enough, exploring an empty ship wasn’t all that entertaining. There was plenty to wonder about, of course, through the barren halls and abandoned holds, but none too interesting.

With all other options exhausted, Finn decided the best thing to do was to get a little rest. He’d had a long day, after all. A nap sounded like just what he needed. To reach the crew quarters from the cargo hold he currently stood in, he had to take a route to the west back through the break room. Exploration taught him that. He was surprised to find Ahsoka in there, sitting at the table he’d previously occupied, chin propped up on one hand while she starred at the wall. She raised her head when he entered, tense for a moment, but relaxed when she realized who it was.

“Oh. Hey, Finn,” she greeted him.

“Hey.” Finn gave the hall to the cockpit a cursory glance. “Shouldn’t you be flying the ship?”

“She’s on autopilot. No need to worry.” Ahsoka stood and began walking toward him.

“Oh, okay,” was all the response he could muster as the alien came to stand before him.

“When are you gonna tell her, Finn?” She asked.

Finn barely noticed the drastic tone shift as his stomach did flips. All at once, his heartbeat tripled and beads of sweat dappled his forehead.

“What, uh… what do you mean? Tell who what?” He blustered, desperate to deflect.

“Stop,” Ahsoka warned. “I don’t need the Force to tell that you’re lying. You’re not with the Resistance.”

Finn’s shoulders sagged. His entire posture wilted. A few hours with a Jedi, and his entire façade had been shattered. He should’ve known this would happen. Of course he couldn’t deceive her, just as his old commander seemed to know everything. The jig was up, now. It was only a matter of time before they threw him out the airlock.

“So you know, then. You know what I was?” He asked, resigned to his fate.

“I can’t read your mind, if that’s what you’re asking. I was never very good at that. But, I know you’re not who you say you are.”

Finn’s spirits actually brightened at that. Maybe he wasn’t so doomed after all.

“Look, Finn, goodness knows I have no place criticizing someone for lying about who they are. I’m sure you have your reasons, and that’s fine, but I urge you to be careful.” Ahsoka glanced down the corridor Finn had just come from. “Rey seems to trust you, but I know that trust is fragile. She’s always been quicker to fight, than to talk, and she’s been let down by a lot of people. If you wait too long, you’ll lose her. Just something to think about.”

Ahsoka walked past him to traverse the hallway he’d entered the lounge from. Finn let her go, content to stew in his own contemplations. She was right, of course. Now Finn had something else to worry about, but unlike most of his situation, this was something he could fix in the short term. The only problem was finding a way to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: Nothing specific to say, this time, but please remember to leave a review


	9. Chapter 9

Blaster fire erupted through through the streets. Red shone off the stark white and grey stone buildings, highlighting the scorch marks and blood spatters which adorned them. Technicolor flashes of blue, and green, and yellow surged out to meet the encroaching crimson tide, only to be struck down at every moment. Explosions caused the dispersal of smoke and debris. The occasional AT-ST walker shook the ground with heavy steps. The capital city of the planet Celdaru stood as the last holdout against the First Order, though it would not last long.

There amongst the torrent of smoke, and fire, and death, chrome armor glistening spotless in the waning sunlight, strode Captain Phasma. She carried no weapon, opting instead for a slow wade through the assault. Bolts blazed all around her from both the stomtroopers who surged behind and the pitiful planetary defenders fighting in vain to protect their homeland. A shot skittered off her armor, yet Phasma did not flinch. The attack didn’t even leave a scorch mark behind, and never stood a chance of penetrating.

A grenade went off mere feet from her, yet could not stop her advance. Phasma strode through the kicked up smoke while dazzling lights cut through it, illuminating the dust with a mostly red menagerie of color. She passed through it while her troopers followed close behind, ever pushing, the aggressors in a war for dominance.

Once through the smoke, Phasma got a good look at her destination. The Celdaru capitol building rose three stories ahead of her, an honestly unimpressive structure given what she’d seen on more advanced planets. Made of the same droll stone as the surrounding structures, the architecture set it apart. Three tiered staircases led up to a columned awning with a large set of doors placed behind them. Phasma knew the building continued down through these stairs, so they were mostly for decoration. It gave the building a certain regal flair, though she found herself disgusted at the complete waste of space and resources it presented. Such inefficiency would never be allowed under First Order rule.

Phasma looked back at the battle to see it progressing more or less as expected. Though the defenders put up a valiant effort, they fell in droves to the overwhelming power and accuracy of her soldiers. The sounds of death came from behind her as well as in front, but she paid them no mind. Those who died here did so in service of the galaxy, of peace and prosperity. There could be no more noble cause, and so they should be proud to serve.

One by one the dead men cleared away for the invaders, a path paved in blood and lined with corpses. At this point, most of the opposing fire came from the capitol building itself. The structure proved a problem, but nothing insurmountable. All obstacles were of no consequence to her might.

As she approached, a new font opened up. On the left side of the capitol, a flood of red blaster fire dug into the defenders. Many of the guns shifted focus to this threat. The sound of heavy canon fire betrayed just how useless their efforts were. Phasma smirked beneath her helmet. It brought her joy to see how the AT-ST fire dismantled the pedantic structure. Every chunk of rock sent flying was another step in the conquest of this planet. The left flank had fallen. Soon, her central assault would reach them, and it would all be over.

Many of the bolts from atop the capitol building faded away. Though the top steps were too shrouded in shadow to make out, Phasma knew this was because the defenders had largely fallen back inside. She raised a vertically open palm above her head, and then chopped forward. At her order, the troopers behind her charged. They surged past her, taking up positions in the rubble to let loose a few shots before continuing forward. Phasma maintained her walking pace. No need for urgency when the inevitable loomed.

With two fronts assaulting the enemy position, one of which had heavy backup, it didn’t take long for the troopers to reach the stairs. They fought their way up, slowly but surely making progress. While some fell, many more casualties came to the locals.

Phasma looked just in time to see a defending Aqualish—one of the few non-human soldiers on the planet—have one of its black eyes boiled by an incoming bolt. A human female took two through the chest and tumbled down the stairs. A dark skinned man took one through the arm. He dropped his rifle and fell behind cover. When he came up seconds later with a pistol in his good hand, he only got off a few shots before a bolt to the cranium put him down. A stormtrooper caught two rapid shots to his chest piece. He staggered, slowed but not dead. A third, however, penetrated the armor, killing him. The battle was still going well.

By the time Phasma reached the stairs herself, the troopers had already made their way up to the top few steps and were fighting defenders behind the pillars. She could hear the sharp report of blasters echoing off the ceiling, interspersed with pained cries. As she began to climb, the captain finally drew the rifle hanging from her back. In one fluid motion, she brought it around from the low sling, pointed it to her right with one hand, and put a dying human out of his misery. With her first blood drawn, she made way to the top.

The gunfire ceased before she made it halfway up, indicating the last of the defenders had fallen. Yet, the battle did not continue past this point. The troopers knew to wait for her. The order to keep on was hers to give. The men would not infringe on her command. She crested the top step to see the men stacked up all along the walls and covering behind the pillars, ready and waiting to enter.

Phasma quickly took stock of the situation. There were four sets of double doors, each made out of a rich medium wood. Instantly, a plan formed in her head, not the most creative but one tried and true by millennia of military doctrine.

“Staggered entry, two sides and then the middles,” she ordered while on the approach. “Are teams in place by the other entrances?”

“Yes, Captain,” ordered one of the higher ranking soldiers.

“Good. Have them wait sixty, and then enter. Give us enough time to draw attention to the front.”

“Relaying, Captain.”

As the trooper sent her orders down the line, Phasma approached the rightmost door. The soldier waiting closest to it locked eyes with her for a moment. Without prompting, he moved out from his spot to the back of the line so the captain could take up the position he had just occupied. She shoved her right shoulder into the wall, weapon lowered and ready to be raised.

“Charges,” she ordered.

A trooper moved up to each door. Yellow cloth on left pauldrons denoted them as members of the engineers corps, the ones in charge of both constructing things and bringing them down. They removed little ropes from their grey backpacks and wrapped them around the handles of the two outer sets of doors. They then waved off to the very back of the line. Phasma counted in her head. 1…2…3

The rope charges burst. Puffs of smoke eradicated the handles and kicked the doors open. They were in.

The captain led the way. She plunged through the smoke and into the hail of blaster fire. Phasma made a quick slip to her right, shooting as she went. Three fighters fell to her attack before she took cover behind the closest of six pillars in the room. Behind her, troopers streamed inside. Some died at the doors, but others made it in. A second later, the other two doors went. When they did, Phasma stepped out.

She unleashed a torrent from her modified E-11D blaster. Every shot found a home, and every home was a kill. Defenders dropped like flies to her assault. Stormtroopers rushed all around her. While the native soldiers did their best to exchange fire, they stood no chance against the First Order onslaught. The troopers swept the first floor with haste.

They continued on to the very wide staircase in the back of the room. Some defenders tried to push forward down them. This did not last long. Uncovered and exposed on the higher ground, they couldn’t stand up to the superior marksmanship of the stormtroopers. When most of them fell in seconds, the rest retreated back up the stairs. Phasma led her people on the clear path to the second floor.

Atop the stairs they found a long corridor riddled with closed entryways, at the end of which was an ornate set of double doors. The defenders had dug in, here, using bits of furniture, debris, and even a few sandbags as cover. The troopers used the incline of the stairs as cover, standing to get off a few shots before ducking back down. It was a good plan, but not effective enough. This was easily the closest the defenders had come to a stalemate. Phasma would not stand for it.

“Bring up the flames!” She shouted over the din of combat.

Phasma looked behind herself. Through the wrecked entrance stepped two troopers. Physically larger than most of their brethren, they featured armor with an additional piece laid over the chest, and a helmet with a much thinner visor. Most striking, however, were the weapons they carried, long as a sniper rifle and with an open flame burning at the end. A hose connected each implement to a pair of tanks on their backs.

The flametroopers made their way up the stairs, but stopped short. Each produced a cylindrical grenade from their belts and tossed them into the hallway. Each projectile split into four pieces before clattering to the stone floor. A second later, they went off in series, a total of eight blinding white flashes.

The amount of blaster bolts coming out of the corridor drastically diminished, though it did not vanish entirely as some soldiers opted to fire blindly into the space, doubtless causing damage to their allies and enemies alike. The flametroopers paid it no heed as they crested the stairs.

They took a second to aim before quite literally opening fire. Jets of flame burst from their weapons. The troopers raked the streams back in forth in patterns that made sure to cover their whole range while never actually crossing. One of them took a shot to the shoulder, but barely flinched. The armor could take one or two hits just fine, and he had better things to worry about.

Soon, the defiant blaster reports faded into the agonized screams of men and women. The flametroopers walked slowly forward, sure to cover the entire length of the passage in flame. Phasma looked around to see some of her own men fidgeting or otherwise trying too hard to seem unbothered. She understood their trepidation. This kind of horror could be difficult to deal with, even for the most seasoned of veterans. But, war was never a nice thing. Conquest, even less so. She swallowed the fear and bile rising up within her chest, and instead focused on the objective. What her men did benefited the entire galaxy. So, if their path had to be made with smoke, then so be it.

After what must have been a few minutes, the flametroopers stopped their advance. The cries continued, however, though none of the previous defensive aggression followed them. The situation had been finally pacified. It was comparatively quiet, in contrast with the combat they all had just seen. The end was close, now. Only a few tings left to do.

“Clear,” the voice of a flametrooper said through the comms.

Phasma entered the hallway. Fires burned on the floors, up the walls, and over the dead bodies charred to a crisp. Those who weren’t dead cried out in agony, the pained screams of men and women who knew they could not be saved. Without being ordered, the stormtroopers entered the space and began executing the few still suffering defenders. Phasma passed all of this by, her gaze focused on the double doors at true end of the passage.

A solid kick forced open the doors. Inside she found a large square room with a desk, a portrait behind, and a bookcase in each back corner. A rotund, aged gentleman sat behind the desk, flanked by a pair of soldiers. The two raised their weapons to shoot, but Phasma was quicker. She gave a bolt to each, putting them on the ground.

A woman appeared from where she had been hiding behind the old man. She was tall, though not like Phasma, with pale skin, dark hair in a sleek ponytail, and a fire in her hazel eyes. She drew a curved blade vibrosword from her hip.

“Stop!” She shouted. “By the traditions of our people I demand you engage me in a honorable duel for the-“

Phasma shot her in the forehead. The woman fell to the ground, dead. Technically, that was an honorable duel, just not with swords. The captain slung her weapon behind her back and approached the old man.

“Apotzis, Governor of Celdaru, your planet has fallen. Submit to us, and your life will be spared,” she said.

The governor looked up at her slowly. “You slaughter my people, kill my granddaughter, and then demand I just roll over for you? No, my people have more honor than that.” He denied with a sneer.

“Don’t throw your life away for something abstract as honor,” Phasma said. “We’re offering you a chance to join the First Order, to be a part of something greater.”

“My planet, perhaps, but not me. I know how you Imperials operate. You’ll lock me away so one of your lapdogs can take over. I’d rather die than watch my world fall to your corruption.”

Phasma could have shot him then and there. It would have been so much easier. She was getting tired of hearing the same rhetoric from overblown politicians time and time again. A few years of peace, and the people who would have before been sniveling worms desperate for rule were now emboldened. A few bolts could easily solve the problem. But, no. she had her orders, and even though she disagreed on some level, the results spoke for themselves.

“We are not Imperials, and we have no interest in repeating the mistakes of our forebears. Submit, and you will be allowed to keep your position.” Phasma made her gambit, began her standard offer.

“I… what?” The governor clearly hadn’t been expecting that. Phasma knew, if nothing else, she had his attention. Time for a long-winded explanation.

“You heard correctly. You will be able to keep your position, your culture, and any religions your people may practice. Our laws will be established in place of yours. You will pay our taxes, cede control of your military, raise new troopers, contribute to our workforce, and give us first rights to any and all undeveloped land. In return, we offer you free trade throughout First Order space through lanes kept safe by our navy. We will take over security in your towns and root out any criminal elements, as well as imprison them ourselves, saving you the financial burden. We will establish a space port and station, providing additional trade and travellers. The New Republic cannot give you any of these things. All we ask, is a little obedience.”

That was pretty much verbatim what she always said whenever she had the opportunity to conquer a planet. She hated it. Captain Phasma was a warrior, not a diplomat. But, as the first person who normally interacted with a planet’s leadership, it was her job to draw them in, to get them thinking about joining the First Order before the real negotiations began.

It usually worked, and this time was no different. A scrunched look on his face, the governor sat back. He was quiet for a while. Phasma gave him the time to think. She couldn’t possibly sweeten the deal further. She didn’t know how. To say anything else right then may have made things worse, not better.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” he said finally.

“No, it doesn’t. A representative will be by shortly to finalize negotiations, and answer any questions you may have.”

“You can’t do any of that?”

“No,” denied Phasma as she leaned against the wall next to the left door. There she would stay, keeping guard until the officers showed up. In all, it had been a successful mission. There were minimal casualties, and she had no reason to believe this governor would decline to join. It didn’t matter if he did or not, of course. Should he refuse, he’d be replaced. Simple as that. Celdaru would belong to the First Order. She could be proud of that.

…

Aboard the isolated halls of his personal flagship, Kylo Ren strode alone. Unlike other areas of the ship, which normally bustled with activity, no one other than him occupied this short passage. The crew simply knew better. This was one of the two private areas the Sith Lord had set aside for himself. Only with permission could anyone else enter, and they never had permission.

At the end of the corridor was and entrance. Kylo stepped up and it opened just like every other door on the Finalizer, splitting in the middle so the halves could retreat up and down into the ship itself. He went inside.

The room was a simple space, dark and unadorned save for a projector pedestal in the middle. Kylo approached it. He hesitated before pressing a big blue button on its control console. He then took a step back and went down to one knee, head bowed deep with eyes that observed the floor.

In a few agonizing seconds which felt like their own self contained hours, the sound of a hologram coming to life snapped throughout the space. Kylo needed not to look to know who it was, to see the face. He knew his master’s visage by heart.

Supreme Leader Snoke was a tall alien, grey of skin and bald of head. A scar caved in the top of his head down to the left eyebrow, as if he had taken a heavy hit there long ago. Indeed, the damage contained down his face and neck on that left side. It looked as if the flesh there and withered and died to reveal the sinuous, stringy muscle though it all had the pigment of his skin. All of this gave a sad look to his blue eyes.

“My Master,” Kylo said, careful to avoid looking up.

“Report, Kylo Ren.” Snoke had an impatient air to his deep rasp. The man was always doing something important, always being interrupted.

“The Celdaru system has just fallen, and negotiations have begun. It won’t be long before their leadership agrees to assimilation.” Kylo delivered his report in a clear and direct manner, just how his Master liked.

Snoke inclined his head slightly. “And you’re certain of this?”

“I sent my captain to oversee the final operation herself. She just gave me her full debrief.”

“Good,” Snoke said slowly. “Good. Our strength grows.”

Kylo dared to speak unbidden. “It is as you said, my Master. I see it all around me, every day, more and more. The people are aimless, without a goal or a purpose. Criminals and addicts run wild in the streets. They lie, and steal, and murder, and the New Republic does nothing to stop them, all in the name of so-called freedom. The galaxy needs order, structure, to operate.”

“The line between freedom and anarchy is near invisible. There needs to be a balance between freedom and order for the galaxy to flourish.” Snoke sounded pleased with himself, as he should have been.

“Yes. The more I see, the more I understand this,” agreed Kylo.

“It is good that we are still in agreement.” Snoke paused for a moment. “What of the situation on Jakku? Have you located the droid?”

“I-“ Kylo hesitated. For a split second he considered garnishing the truth, but Snoke would see through it. He always did. “No, Master. After a brief pursuit, the droid escaped with some help from a few locals.”

“hmm,” Snoke’s booming voice filled the private chamber. “It is imperative that the droid is captured. We cannot allow this map to slip away from us.”

“I am sorry for failing you, Master. I will accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”

“You have not failed me until the droid is either lost or destroyed. However, I will not accept this self pity. You are a lord of the new Sith Empire. You should show pride for your position. So rise, Apprentice, and see that our work is done.”

“Yes, Master.”

Kylo waited until the hologram blinked out of existence to pick up his head and stand. That went far better than he ever expected. Maybe the news of Celdaru put is master in a good mood. No matter the reason, Kylo knew much better than to argue with such fortune. Heartened by his Master’s approval, Kylo walked out of the chamber, determined to redouble his efforts. The droid would be found, no matter what. Master Snoke’s will be done, and the galaxy would quake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTES: I think we can all agree that the Galactic Empire—and by proxy the First Order—is stupid, right? History has shown again and again that empires winch rule by fear don’t work. Period. Fear is temporary, so if the only reason people have to stay in an empire is “we’re afraid,” it will fail and do so swiftly. People need a reason to accept totalitarian rule. Leaving the empire needs to be worse than staying in it. So, I attempted to make the First Order a bit more realistic. Hopefully, in doing so, I can turn it into more of a legitimate antagonist instead of a big bad evil corporation to take down.
> 
> Make sure to leave a review if you liked the chapter. What did you think of Phasma actually having something to do rather than sit around waiting to get killed by Finn?


	10. Change of Scenery

Rey stood in the main hold of the YT-1300 freighter she had just helped to steal. On the other side of the room, the woman she used to know as Ashla—but now knew as Ahsoka Tano—played some sort of holographic chess game with her newest friend, Finn. The latter had already lost four times, yet stubbornness kept him at the table. Why this ship had the lounge connected to the primary cargo storage area was beyond her, but it allowed for the chance to watch Finn lose over and over again. So, there at least was entertainment.

The main hold was a wide empty space which would have been perfectly square if not for the attached room. Cabinets lined all three of the walls, likely for putting smaller objects which may have slid across the floor or otherwise become misplaced amongst the other cargo. Rey walked over to one, the whine of a gyro ball reminding her that the droid BB-8 tagged along. She opened the random cabinet to find it empty. The droid beeped a question at her.

"No, nothing," Rey said while she closed the thing and went on to the next. This one had the sticks, grit, and random objects that denoted it as some animal's nest. Rey quickly closed it before anything came out. Though, if something did live in there it would solve her problem. An option, but one she decided to save for later.

The scavenger moved on down the line, opening each cabinet she came across. BB-8 followed close behind, a constant companion to the growing disappointment and frustration the girl felt. He was smart enough to stay quiet, however. Other than the occasional boop, the only sounds he made were the unavoidable ones of locomotion.

Slowly, Rey made a circuit of the hold. Every few steps she bent down to look inside something. Every peek revealed the exact same outcome as the previous. Most of the time she found absolutely nothing. What she did occasionally find were bits of natural debris, doubtless moved there by various animals. These were few and far between, though. The majority of finds were stale air.

Tired eyes barely looked inside the last cabinet as she opened it. With a sigh, she closed it. Nothing. There were two other holds to go through. Hope was not lost, but nearly so. And, they were such long walks away. Had she literally anything better to do, she never would have even considered it. As things stood, the only options were to either keep snooping, or get trounced by Ahsoka. Neither sounded fun, but the former moreso.

She made it three steps into the lounge before releasing there were also cabinets in there. Might as well check them. Rey bent down to open the first one closest to the hold. She felt more than saw Ahsoka's gaze flick to her. Ignoring it, Rey pushed down the disappointment of finding yet another empty compartment and move to the next. It, too, was empty. A rub of her forehead, and she moved on.

"What are you looking for, Rey?" Ahsoka called from where she sat.

"Something to eat," responded the human girl, "but there's no food on this ship."

"Well, of course not. It's been sitting in the desert for who knows how long," Finn said.

"Yeah, I know it's a longshot, but we've gotta eat something." Rey opened up the cabinet, shook her head, and closed it.

"Don't worry, you two. I already thought of that. Come here," Ahsoka said. Rey complied as the older Togruta pressed a button on the hologram table. The game vanished, replaced by a galactic map which seemed to pop up from within the projector.

"Oh, it's not just a game board," said Finn.

"It used to be," Ahsoka said as she manipulated the map with her hands.

She zoomed in on a particular part of the west, one that comprised a single sector and two planet's. One near the center carried the label _Jakku._ Ahsoka pointed at the other one, which lay in the middle of the southern edge.

"Here, Duath. It's a garden world that mostly exports food, so we should be able to find some rather easily. They're kinda primitive, though, so we'll need to make a stop on Walalla for fuel." Ahsoka shifted directly east to indicate another planet. She then pointed at one northeast. "From there, we'll go to Trunska. That'll put us just inside New Republic territory."

"You really planned this out, huh?" Rey observed. She was impressed.

"Failed before it starts, is a mission without foresight." Ahsoka seemed to recite some kind of bottled wisdom. Before Rey could ask about it, Finn pointed at the map.

"Why don't we go here? It's closer." He indicated a planet south of Trunska.

"I mean..." Ahsoka scratched the side of her face with one finger. "We could _try_ Phu. It would be more comfortable, but the native Bardottans are kind of xenophobic. They might not even let us land. I'd rather not waste my time."

"Whatever you think is best, Ash- Ahsoka," Rey said. Ahsoka gave her a thin smile. Finn peered at both in turn, but offered no comment.

"First stop Duath, then. We should be there in a day or so."

Rey let her smile linger, glad to have a plan of action established. Was this how she always imagined leaving Jakku? No, of course not. She always assumed she'd hit some big find and make enough to buy her own ship, or a handsome space cowboy would come to whisk her away. Fugitive aboard an ancient stolen freighter never even crossed her mind. But, she was there. No use in complaining about it. The contentment she felt faded a few seconds later, though.

"Wait, a whole _day_? We have to go that long without food?"

"I know it's not ideal, but these things tend to happen when you leave in a hurry," Ahsoka said.

"And we definitely left in a hurry," echoed Finn.

"You seem pretty okay with this," observed Rey.

Finn shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time I went without."

Rey understood that sentiment. It wouldn't be the first time for her, either. Most people living in the outskirts of the galaxy probably had similar experiences. Just because she had gone some days without food before, didn't mean she wanted to go more days right then.

"Tell you what, Rey," began Ahsoka. "When we get to Duath I'll make us all something really good. We'll have a feast, OK?"

"OK," agreed the human girl with dejection in her voice. She couldn't hide an element of excitement, though. She'd never had Ahsoka's cooking before. The promise of that alone was enough to almost make the perspective wait worth it.

"In the meantime, why don't you keep working on finding your catalyst," Ahsoka suggested. "Fasting can actually be a great way to kick on your body's survival instincts and deepen your connection to the Force. This might make forging a connection even easier."

"OK, I'll give it a shot," Rey said.

She scampered off to do just that, once again leaving Ahsoka and Finn alone in her wake. The human waited before speaking up.

"Is that true?" He asked.

"Yes and no," Ahsoka said. "It's more of a meditation technique than a learning tool, but the theory is sound. More concrete than telling her to 'reach out with her feelings' or something like that."

"And you think that's what she needs?"

"Growing up on such a harsh planet can make someone very direct and—for lack of a better word—impatient. Rey needs a more physical connection, right now, because I think the spiritual side of the Force may be lost on her for the moment."

Finn had no response for that, and Ahsoka didn't expect him to. It was sweet that he was concerned about this girl he just met, even though he had little to add to the conversations about her. It said a lot about his character.

"Is there anything you need me to do?" Finn asked after a moment.

"Yes actually." Ahsoka stood up and walked over to BB-8, who gave her a chirp in greeting. "I want you to take BB-8 here on a loop around and catalog all of the damage. Take down everything, no matter how small. Even a scratch in the durasteel is enough."

"OK," Finn acquiesced. "What about you?"

"I'm gonna take a look at that hyperdrive, see if there's anything at all I can do about it."

"Aye-aye, Captain. Come on, BB-8."

The droid offered a few beeps as it followed him into the main corridor. Ahsoka grimaced at the title he referred to her with. Even though it was a joke, he would probably get thrown out of the airlock for calling _her_ captain of this particular vessel. With a shake of her head, Ahsoka went off to accomplish her self-appointed tasks, though she doubted any chance of finding success in it.

And so, thus began the longest day Rey had ever known. Beneath some grating in the main corridor which wound its way through the center of the ship, a small square hole had been cut. Rey had taken apart a YT-1300 before, and that one had no opening in the floor, so it most likely was a custom job. Assumedly, it existed to give access to some critical system. Just as she had last time Ahsoka had told her to go practice, Rey climbed inside and closed herself in. The enclosed space, surrounded by old electronics, reminded the scavenger of her AT-AT home. Despite how much she claimed to hate the old thing, reminders of it were oddly comforting. Being comfortable seemed like an important thing if she wanted to reach out to the Force.

What followed were several hours of sheer frustration. Try as she might, Rey simply couldn't feel the Force. Indeed, the only thing she felt with any prominence was hunger. It cut into her concentration, took over every part of her until her very essence became a need for food. How was she supposed to focus with such a dominating sensation flooding her consciousness?

It wasn't even that bad, at first. Rey likened it to how she felt toward the end of a scavenging run. It would have been quite a while since she last ate on any given work day, and she was used to that level of discomfort. As time wore on, however, the emptiness grew. It built slowly, enough that Rey failed to notice it at first. Once she did, it completely consumed her mind, until all she could think about was eating.

Perhaps the worst part was how Rey remembered this sensation. It brought her back to all those lonely nights, the warm desert mornings and the cold barren nights, all the times she slept outside after a long day of trying to find food in the middle of a wasteland. She had been young then, only twelve years of age when her parents were killed. Jakku had no love for children. Those who couldn't look after themselves ended up dead or worse, no matter how old.

During those times, she survived on sticks, and roots, and insects. It wasn't until she stole a fusion cutter from a merchant at Niima Outpost, did Rey enter the scavenging business and turn her life around. It had been almost a year out on her own, a year with no one to turn to and no way to help herself. This hunger she felt brought back stark memories of those times. She'd do anything to never go back.

These dark thoughts combined with the lack of food made any attempt at finding the Force utterly futile. She had felt the Force within her. She knew it was there. It just wouldn't call to her in that moment, not when she lacked the focus to reach for it. Ahsoka's wording hadn't helped, either. How was she supposed to embrace the Force when she had no idea the methods used in doing so? Ahsoka said to find moments of calm or strength in the crazy action they'd just been involved in. Well, _what_ calm? How was she supposed to find anything in an event so drowned in adrenaline that she barely even remembered most of it? The Force would probably help with that, but she couldn't use the Force at all. This entire effort seemed terminally cyclical in nature, an exercise in futility.

Eventually, she gave up. Without the sun to guide her, Rey had no idea what time it was. Judging by the weight of her bones, it must've been at least night time. Did space even have a night? Questions for later. Bogged down by the events of the day, combined with failure at the task her friend had assigned, Rey decided the best thing to do was sleep her way to Duath. So, she found what must've been the crew quarters, picked a bunk, and fell in it. Sleep came before she was even aware of drifting off.

…

"Rey." A voice came to her in the darkness, gentle and deep, obviously a man. She ignored it, far too content in her slumber to pay anything else much mind.

"Rey," it repeated. On a second listen, it sounded a lot like Finn. She pictured him in her dream, stepping into her old home with gifts of companionship.

"Rey!" The voice was much louder this time, enough to wrest her from sleep. Rey's eyes flew open. She sat up, the room dark as her eyes adjusted to the light. She squinted, rubbing the right one. A quick search found Finn poking his head in the doorway, hands on the jam for support.

"Finn?" She asked, voice low with sleep. "What's going on?"

"We're here. Thought you might wanna know," he said with a comical cock to his head.

"We are?" Rey swung her feet over the bedside. "How long was I out?"

"Sixteen hours."

"Sixteen hours!?" She regarded him with big eyes." What... when... how?"

"Ahsoka said not to disturb you, and that you probably don't even know you haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time," explained Finn.

"... what?" Was all Rey could manage.

"That's what I said," agreed Finn, "but didn't argue."

"Well, at least I slept through most of the trip, I guess." Rey shrugged and then stood up, ignoring how stiff her knees felt after such a long rest. "Are we heading out, then?"

"In a minute. The refresher still works, so Ahsoka said to clean yourself up, and then join us in the lounge."

"Yeah, alright, that sounds good." Rey entered the fresher station just to the left of the entrance. "See you in a bit," she called before closing the door.

"Yeah, see ya." Finn's returned through it.

Rey waited for the sound of Finn's footsteps to disappear before starting in. She stared at the fresher for a moment. The room was tiny, just big enough for a sink, toilet, and small sonic shower. The later item disappointed her for two reasons. One: she had never actually taken a shower. Plumbing was a luxury on Jakku, and to waste what little water they had on a shower was foolish. So, most opted for baths with reused water. Just once she wanted to know what it was like. Second: sonics were uncomfortable to use. They vibrated at a low resonant frequency to shake dirt and grime off of a person, which worked well enough, but the sound waves made her uneasy. But, those were both petty arguments. This was her first time ever visiting a different planet, after all. She at least wanted to look presentable. So, Rey sucked it up and took her turn in the sonic.

When finished, and after a moment to wrest the wringing in her ears, Rey dressed and went out to the lounge as instructed. There, she found Ahsoka and Finn mid-conversation, sitting at the switched off hologram table.

"We did make good time," Ahsoka was saying. "This ship is pretty fast, though, so I knew we would."

"Good thing, because I'm about to collapse," said Finn.

"All the more reason to get going, then," Ahsoka said, and then looked at Rey. "Ready to head out?"

Rey hesitated, surprised at being acknowledged before announcing her presence. "Yeah, sure. Let's go," she said.

"Alright, come on."

With Ahsoka leading the way and Rey with BB-8 in the back, the four of them wound their way through the main corridor and out the access ramp into the crisp Duath air.

Their shop had put down on a plateau just outside of what appeared to be a decent sized town. The space immediately around had the look of a landing pad, hard soil pounded flat, a control tower, various boxes and electronic devices placed about, and a few workers getting on with their various tasks.

Rey took a deep breath. The smell of the air was... indescribable. Sweet and musty, with a slight bitterness underneath she recognized as starship exhaust, it played with her senses in a way she'd never experienced. Maybe it was the surrounding pine forest, or the expanse of grass everywhere the where she could see, but the area just smelled _green_ to her. Not that she even knew what that was supposed to be like, of course. She had never seen trees, or smelled grass, or felt an icy nip in the midday air. It truly was indescribable, not because she couldn't find the words, but because she had no idea how to even fathom such scenery. The only term she could come up with was _beautiful_. Duath as beautiful.

"I thought you said this planet didn't have a spaceport," observed Finn.

"Oh please. This is _not_ a spaceport. This is a landing area, nothing more," Ahsoka said.

"It's freezing," Rey said. She hugged her middle in an attempt to retain some heat. Ahsoka chuckled at her.

"You're used to a very hot planet. Duath is pretty comfortable, but I'm sure it must be cold to you," said the Togruta.

They began toward the edge of the plateau and approached the town. Rey looked in every direction except straight ahead. The grass was so green, the mighty pines appeared almost blue, the sky was massive and full of puffy white clouds. She had heard stories from various travellers about planets like this, but never imagined she'd ever get to visit one. Though Rey had dreamed about places like this, the reality was so much better than anything she could make up. So enamored was she with her surroundings, she failed to notice someone approach the group.

"Welcome to Duath, strangers. Do you require transportation around town," asked a slightly nasally male voice.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," denied Ahsoka

"Alright, then. Enjoy your stay on Duath."

Rey looked toward the source of this new voice, and beheld a species she had never seen before. He was tall and lithe, with big yellow eyes and wide ears atop his head. His angular features focused around a short, sharp snout. This all would have looked ridiculous, if not for the fur. Though he wore a red shirt and black pants that covered most of his body, Rey assumed the pattern of light grey broken by black stripes continued on through the entirety of his being.

Her party moved on in the opposite direction of him, but Rey could help herself from getting another look over her shoulder. Conscious of how rude it would be to stare, she only let this linger for a second or two before returning her gaze forward.

Ahsoka, seeming to read her mind, spoke up. "That was one of the Duaths, the native species here. Their thick fur and long limbs make them perfectly suited to the temperate forests of the planet."

"What are they like?" Asked Finn.

"A bit uptight, but not unkind. They're very protective of their planet's ecosystem, and that can make them come off as cold."

Rey absorbed all of this information as they approached the town. Not only was this her first time on a new planet, but also her first encounter with a species she never even knew existed. She was fascinated, to say the least. She wanted to know all about this place, its people and the ecosystem they so prized. If only she had more time to stick around.

"Now, I know this is gonna be confusing," Ahsoka began when they were close to town, "but it's important that you guys only refer to me by my fake name while we're here. Despite all those lightsaber theatrics yesterday, I'm still technically in hiding."

"Makes sense," Finn shrugged.

A beat went by. The two of then were clearly waiting for Rey to respond, but she did not.

"Did you hear me, Rey?" Ahsoka prompted. The scavenger was still silent. "Rey!" Ahsoka raised her voice, which finally startled the human girl out of her stupor.

"What? Oh, yeah, I heard you, Ashla." Rey used the fake name for emphasis.

"I need you paying attention," chastised Ahsoka.

"Sorry. I was distracted." Rey didn't even care how weak that excuse was.

How could she not be distracted? She'd never seen anything like this before. As they entered the town, she stared at the buildings. They were tall, mostly two stories or more. Made of interwoven branches and thatch, there were no straight lines to be found. The structures were all curves and rounded off angles. The reasoning for this was blatantly obvious from just looking around. The woven and smooth construction made it easy for the natives to scrabble up and down them with their powerful clawed hands, something Rey observed multiple times through their walk.

The four newcomers seemed to find themselves in a main street of sorts. The dirt road was more than wide enough to accommodate several people abreast, which it did through necessity. Though small, the town was busy. People, mostly Duaths, moved to and fro among the tightly packed buildings. Those who didn't traverse the roads leapt from structure to structure, opting instead for the high ground.

All around were the sounds of civilization. Noise from distant construction projects filled the air. The people nearer by spoke a language Rey had never heard before, a high-pitched drawl that seemed to incorporate whistling to some degree. It made the conversations sound almost like songs.

As her group came closer to the heart of town, the structures condensed tighter still. Now, along with the normal ones, there were stalls and tents set up where the occupants shouted at passersby. While Rey couldn't understand them, this was obviously a market of some sort.

"I thought you said these people are farmers," Finn commented.

"They are," answered Ahsoka, "but not every town on a planet can be dedicated to the same thing. This place seems more commercial than agricultural. It's likely where the farmers come to sell their crops."

"And you can tell all that just by looking?" Finn sounded skeptical. Much as Rey trusted her friend, she also found it hard to believe.

"I've been to a lot of places, and seen a lot of people. You start to recognize some patterns, after a while. The cultures vary wildly, but the ways they form together are usually quite similar. A town is a town, a farm is a farm, and a market is a market. It's fascinating, if you think about it," Ahsoka said. Rey had to agree with her.

They walked on for a few minutes more. As far as Rey cared, they could have continued walking forever, so as to see more of what the planet had to offer. A rumbling in her stomach had different ideas, however. It served as a stark reminder of why they were on Duath, and the circumstances that led them there. Interesting as this place may have been, they had a job to do. Rey couldn't afford to lose sight of that.

"That sign over there is in Basic," Finn said, pointing to his right. "Should we try it?"

"Great find, Finn," Ahsoka said, following his indication. "Yes, let's start there."

The four of them went over to the stall. It was quite obviously a food vendor, judging by the amalgam of colorful fruits and vegetables piled atop it and in crates scattered all around. The woman standing behind it had similar grey fur to the first man they'd met, but she was shorter and with sharper angles on her face. When she spoke, it was with a gentle, cheerful nature.

"Greetings, travelers," she said, "welcome to Duath. What brings you to my corner of town?"

"We're looking to resupply," answered Finn, much to Rey's surprise. She expected Ahsoka to take the lead.

"Well, if you need fresh produce, you've come to the right place. You won't find better in all of Quathree," the woman said. _Quathree_ must've been the town's name.

"Good. We should only need a few days, right?" Finn looked back at Ahsoka, who nodded.

"I can certainly provide that much, especially if it's just the three of you," the woman said. "Now, I accept New Republic credits, as well as various forms of Hutt currency, but it you have something else we can make it work."

"Oh, um..." Finn quickly rifled through the pockets of his jacket. "I, uh, I don't think we have any money," he said with a pained expression.

The woman sighed. "Then I'm sorry, son, but I can't help you. This is a stall, not a soup kitchen."

The shift in her tone was remarkable. She went from warm and friendly, to harsh, in a instant. Finn clearly was taken aback by this, for he shied away and looked down. Thankfully for him, Ahsoka stepped forward.

"Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. My companions and I are quite capable. Could we do any sort of work in exchange for supplies?"

The woman hesitated. "Plenty of work to be done around town, but I'm afraid that's not an option. We're... we've been having some problems with smugglers, you see. They steal our crops and make it impossible to make a profit. I'm sorry, but I can't afford to sell for anything other than credits right now." She seemed reluctant to say all of this, as if embarrassed or otherwise discomforted by it.

"Hmm..." Ahsoka thought for a moment. "We may be able to help with that, in exchange for food."

"Really?" the woman clearly hadn't expected that. Ahsoka nodded, and the local's expression brightened. "Then you'll want to speak with Therrin. He's the captain of the local peacekeepers."

"And where can we find this Therrin?"

"He's probably in his headquarters. It's in the far corner of town. Just keep walking that way and you'll see it eventually. It's the only rectangular building." the woman pointed somewhere behind them.

"Very well. We'll see what we can do." Ahsoka gave a bow of her head, and began off in the previously indicated direction.

"Thank you, kind strangers," the woman called after then.

Rey wasn't entirely sure what just happened. It all moved so fast, her mind had trouble comprehending it. One moment she was enjoying a walk through this new town, and the next they were rushing off to go speak with the police? If she read the situation right, they were about to fight some smugglers. That most certainty was _not_ what she expected when Finn woke her up just a few minutes ago. She would have to see what happened in the next several minutes. One thing she knew for certain, however, was that whatever did happen would be interesting indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: The book Vector Prime gives a really good idea of the speeds at which hyperspace travel operates. The Jade Sabre, one of the fastest ships in the galaxy, is able to make the trip between Reecee and Dubrillion in one week. These planet's are almost exactly five sectors apart. This means the time to cross a sector in a very fast ship is roughly 1.4 days. It can be interpolated that a faster ship would travel the same distance in less time, while a Star Destroyer would need much longer.
> 
> I did not want to make up a whole new planet, let alone a species, for this fic. I'm trying to be as canon/legends compliant as possible. However, I failed to realize just how remote Jakku is. It's literally in the middle of nowhere. Had I done more research, I would've just stuck Rey on Tatooine and been done with it. But, I didn't, so we get planet Duath.
> 
> I'm having a lot of computer trouble, right now, so this chapter was written completely on my phone. Because of this, there were a lot of mistakes on the proofread, and there are still probably more than usual. Sorry
> 
> Please remember to leave a review. What do you think of our new cat-people friends and their planet?


	11. Training

It's good that the walk to the peacekeeper headquarters was so long, because Rey needed time to process everything that just happened. Within a matter of minutes she had gone from enjoying the atmosphere on a new planet, to rushing off to help some random people fight a bunch of smugglers. She understood the importance of doing such a doing, and maybe would have if left to her own devices, it just all happened so fast. And, she was still hungry.

Ahsoka led the way through the narrow streets dominated by their tall rounded buildings. The further they got from the market, the less crowded these avenues became, which made perfect sense. Rey had never been to a proper town like this before. Niima Outpost was more of a business establishment than anything else. In a way, this was her first experience with true civilization. While she had no prior knowledge of this sort of thing, that there would be fewer people farther from the commercial center seemed logical.

The Duaths they did pass preferred the flat land. The whole act of climbing along the buildings seemed to be a contrivance for avoiding crowds, or otherwise traversing faster along congested routes. Unlike the previous conclusion, this one failed to connect with Rey. Why would she ever choose to travel across the ground when some other form of locomotion was so easily accessible? Maybe these people were just so used to climbing that it lost it's grandeur. That was sad, honestly.

The buildings also thinned the further toward the outskirts the four of them became. The roads didn't widen, though, which made the town edges seemed underdeveloped. There seemed to Rey to be a lot of unused land, here. Indeed, there were a few gaps large enough to fit entire new houses. It gave off the impression of a town still in the process of being built. She remembered the sounds of construction heard upon first entering. While that cacophony no longer rose over the rooftops, it lent credence to the theory.

By the time they reached their destination, the structures faded away completely. The peacekeepers headquarters stood alone on a little patch of land. Wider than it was long, it was not only a rare single storey, but the only sharp edge Rey had seen since landing, just like the vendor woman said. Still made of woven wood, it incorporated the first metal elements Rey had noticed. Bars blocked the square windows and the door seemed to be a single piece. It was pretty obviously a salvaged starship door, though the scavenger couldn't tell from whence it came. It definitely wasn't Imperial or Rebellion, however. That much she could be sure of.

Ahsoka led them to the entrance, which was guarded by two officers. They wore blue uniforms that went black on the inner thigh. Each carried a different blaster rifle. They stood perfectly still, looking straight out in an unconcerned manner. That is, until the newcomers came close enough. The one on the right held out his hand.

"That's close enough, offworlders. State your business," he commanded.

"We'd like to speak with your captain. We heard you've been having a smuggler problem, and we're here to help," Ahsoka said.

"You mercenaries? Bounty hunters?"

"Military." Ahsoka offered a hand. "General Ashla Offee."

"General? New Republic?" The guard did not shake her hand.

Ahsoka shook her head. "Rebel Alliance."

"I'll..." The guard fixed her with a skeptical gaze. "I'll go fetch the captain." he disappeared into the building without another word. Rey waited until he was well and truly gone before she spoke up.

"You fought in the Rebellion?" She said, voice full of wonder.

"Mm-hmm," Ahsoka hummed confirmation. "And the Clone Wars."

"You fought in the Clone Wars!?" Rey couldn't help herself from exclaiming.

"You're kidding," Echoed Finn.

Even BB-8 added his own doubts.

"I'm serious," Ahsoka insisted. "I even kept my old rank patch. Left it on Jakku, though."

"But that was, like, _forever_ ago," Rey said.

"Alright, come on, I'm not _that_ old," she joked.

"The Clone Wars." Rey passed a hand through her hair and looked away. "I can't believe it," she muttered to herself.

"I'll tell you one of my old war stories some time," offered Ahsoka.

"Oh please, please, do," Rey asked with a step closer and hope in her big eyes. Ahsoka chuckled at her.

"When we're done dealing with the smugglers," Ahsoka concluded.

Rey could have said more. She had infinite questions, after all. How could she not? Veterans of the Clone Wars were more rare than Mandalorians. Rey wanted to ask her everything, to take in every little detail, but it would not be so, for the captain opened the door and strode out.

Facially, Captain Therrin looked much like the other Duaths, with his angular features and ears atop his head. His fur was more a muddy brown than the various greys and blacks Rey had been seeing. He wore a red version of the uniform his subordinates featured. What really set him apart, though, was the long scar down his left cheek. It formed a jagged line where no fur grew over rough peach skin.

"Captain Therrin," the man introduced himself with an outstretched hand.

"General Ashla Offee." The two shook hands

"My men tell me you used to fight for the Rebellion?"

"That's right." Ahsoka said with a curt nod.

"And what would a former freedom fighter have to do with my town?" This man was all business.

"I'll give you the short version: My people and I stopped here to restock on food, but through various circumstances found ourselves without anything to trade with. We heard about your smuggler problem and thought we'd offer our services in exchange for supplies." Ahsoka did a great job explaining without going into any specifics.

The captain took a moment to process this, during which Rey tried to get a read on him. His alien face made him difficult to draw a bead on. The angular features couldn't emote like a humanoid's. What's more, these people seemed to communicate without hardly ever using their hands. Rey thought the man looked confused judging by his downward gaze, but such a simple move could mean anything.

"If you need food, that's something we can provide, but only if you help us," he said.

"We'll do our best," Ahsoka said with a nod.

"But before that, I hope you understand," the captain spoke slowly, deliberately, "I can't just go around believing anyone who claims to be an old rebel. I don't know you, you could be anyone."

"That's fair," conceded Ahsoka. "How can I prove myself to you?"

"Well, any Alliance General would know the Declaration of Rebellion. _We, the Rebel Alliance—_ "

" _Do_ _therefore in the name—and by the authority—of the free beings of the Galaxy, solemnly publish and declare our intentions._ Don't recite the Declaration at me, Captain. I helped write it. Should I start from the beginning, or did you have something else in mind?"

The captain seemed stunned. No, that was too weak a word. Flabbergasted fit much better. He just starred at her for a few long seconds, clearly incapable of comprehending what had just happened. That he hadn't expected such a powerful move was written all over his entire being. When he did finally speak, it was with a sort of muted reverence.

"That won't be necessary." He briefly saluted. "We would be honored to have your assistance, General."

"Glad to hear it," Ahsoka said. "Now, about that food you mentioned..."

"Right. The mess hall is through here." The captain turned and led them into the headquarters. "I'm not sure how agreeable our fare will be, but help yourselves."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Gather your men while we eat. If you have a briefing room, then use it. If not, we'll just meet outside. I'll need to inspect them before I can start forming a plan."

"Yes, ma'am." The captain said, though he did not leave just yet. He had a mess hall to lead them to.

The inside of the headquarters opened up immediately into a large waiting room of sorts with a wooden desk at the far end and several stools upon which to sit. All of the latter laid empty. The woven walls provided perfect protection from the elements, including light. Natural illumination streamed in from the windows, while unlit solar sconces would have been lit were it nighttime. The captain led them all the way through this room and into an open doorway to the far left.

Rey could have marveled at the scenery, the sophistication of the architecture and the newness of it all. Instead, Ahsoka grabbed her full attention. She had never seen this side of her Togruta friend. Sure, she'd witnessed her dealing with the other employed hands on Niima, but that was different. Here, she slid so easily into a commanding role, issued orders like they were nothing. It added truth to the statement that she really had been a soldier at one point.

"How long are the cycles on this planet, Captain?" Ahsoka asked as they walked down a short hallway.

"Thirty-two hours, ma'am," answered Therrin simply.

"And how long until nightfall today?"

"Ten hours."

Ahsoka scratched her chin. "We're on a very tight schedule. I should be able to give you twenty-four hours of training between today and tomorrow, but we'll have to commence immediately afterward."

"That'll be no problem." The captain said. He took them through a set of double doors at the end of the hall, and then stopped. "I'll tell the cook to let you have your fill. When you're finished, come to the briefing room. It's the last door on the right coming back to the entrance."

"Thank you, Captain," Ahsoka said. The captain bowed his head and departed, speaking into a communicator on his wrist.

The mess hall was a surprisingly diminutive room. It had four long tables, one of which hosted two chatting Duaths. The pair gave the newcomers curious looks, but paid them little mind before returning to their conversation. The only other notable feature was a square hole in the center of the far wall. Ahsoka led them over to this opening, where they were each dished a share of food on wooden trays before taking seats at the back left table. Ahsoka sat in the middle, with Rey on the left and Finn to the right.

The menu for the day was a shredded red meat which tasted like a leaner Bantha, a mash Rey assumed was some kind of tuber, various oddly shaped steamed vegetables, and some sour fruit she didn't particularly care for. Even that, though, was completely devoured. Rey tore through the meal like it was the last thing she would ever eat. She even got up to get seconds, but only after Ahsoka did the same. The captain said to get their fill, after all. Maybe it was the ravenous hunger, but Rey couldn't remember the last time she ate anything that tasted quite so good. It beat the everloving skiff out of veg-meat.

Toward the end of her second helping, Rey felt herself slowing down. The perfect time for a little chit-chat.

"So, we're you really a general?" Rey asked of Ahsoka. "In the Rebellion, I mean."

"Yes and no," answered Ahsoka. "I operated as one in battle, but I technically never had a rank. My role was a bit different."

Rey mulled this over for a moment. "I can't wait to hear some of your stories."

"Speaking of battles," Ahsoka put down her fork to look at the humans on either side of her. "I don't plan on negotiating with these smugglers. I would like to avoid bloodshed, but we don't have that kind of time. I know you two didn't ask for this, so I won't expect either of you to come along."

To Rey, though she understood what Ahsoka was saying, the notion was utterly ridiculous. That she should abandon her only friends in the world so they can go off and risk their lives alone simply could not happen. Yes, this all happened faster than she would have wanted, but she was in it now. She would see it through.

"People like us help people, right?" Rey didn't speak the word, but it was obvious what she meant by _people like us_. "So we should help _these_ people, right? It's the right thing to do."

"I've been a soldier my whole life," Finn followed, "and I've done some things I'm not proud of. I want to do some good, for once."

There was an awful lot to unpack in that statement. Perhaps Finn was the one Rey should be asking for stories. There would be time for that later, though. For now, what mattered was the task ahead, and all the ways she could help Ahsoka prepare.

After the three of them finished eating, they returned their trays to the window and made for the room the captain had pointed out to them. Inside they found a square space with a blackboard and podium to the immediate right, and little stools to the left. Occupying the stools were twenty men, including the captain. Upon Ahsoka's entry, they all stood and saluted.

"Be seated," Ahsoka said as she took the podium." Rey, Finn," she pointed to her left and right, respectively. As the humans took their spots, the Duaths returned to their stools.

"You demeanor tells me that Captain Therrin already informed you of the situation. My name is General Ashla Offee. I fought in the Rebellion, and while I did not take part in the battle that freed you from the old Empire, I have heard of your ferocity. Under my leadership, we will eliminate the smugglers that have plagued your homes. Before that, however, I need to get an idea of what I'm working with. I need everyone who had fired a blaster before joining these peacekeepers to please stand."

There was a modicum of hesitation among the men. They exchanged glances while a murmur rose up. Rey wasn't sure what Ahsoka had in mind, either, but everything she had seen so far told her the Togruta knew what she was doing. After several seconds, three Duaths stood up.

"Thank you." Ahsoka nodded to them. "Now, everyone who has fired a blaster as part of your duties, please stand."

Two of the first three sat back down, but six more replaced them, for a total of seven.

"Good. My next question is going to be a bit more difficult, but I ask for your honesty. You will receive no judgment from me. Anyone who has ever actually shot someone, please stand."

There was hesitation again, but not so much as with the first question. The results, however, made Rey's heart sink. Only two Duaths were upright, one of whom was part of the first group, but not the second. Rey didn't need to be an old veteran to know these were not good numbers.

It was Ahsoka's turn to pause and think for a moment. "Everyone currently issued a blaster, please stand." All twenty Duaths rose. When they did, Ahsoka led out an audible sigh of relief. "Ok. Believe it nor not, this is better than what I expected. I've done more with far less. Today and tomorrow, you will take part in a training regimen I designed long ago. Then, I will draw up a plan and together we will assault the smugglers. So you understand?"

A chorus of voices rang out their acknowledgement.

"Captain, do you have a firing range?" Ahsoka asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And do you have extra blasters for myself and my associates?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've already informed the quartermaster to prepare arms for you."

"Excellent. Good work, Captain." Ahsoka said. Rey knew that tone. The Togruta was genuinely impressed. "Men, gather your weapons and meet in the firing range. My people will get armed up and meet you there."

The peacekeepers didn't respond. They simple filed out of the room, leaving the three offworlders to stand alone, with the exception of the captain, who lingered behind.

"I will lead you to the quartermaster, if you please, ma'am," he said.

"That would be much appreciated. Thank you."

With that, Captain Therrin once again escorted his charges through the headquarters, but this time in the opposite direction. As they walked, Rey spoke to Ahsoka.

"So, do you want me to participate in this training, too?"

"Of course," Ahsoka answered. "I would have said so if I didn't."

"But why? What use would someone like me have for a blaster?" Rey asked her real question.

"Well, there's three things. One, you're not far enough along in your training to use anything else. Two, there will be situations where you'll be forced to use a variety of non-standard equipment, so it's a good idea to familiarize yourself. Three, all experience is good experience. It may not feel like it, but doing this will make you a better fighter in the end." Ahsoka explained herself, and made a very good argument in the process.

"Alright," Rey said after a few seconds. "I can't really argue with that."

Their conversation ended just as Therrin brought them to their destination. He took them through a door on the other side of the lobby. This came out in another hallway, longer than the first. Therrin ducked then through the last door on the right, and Rey found herself immediately before a short room mostly blocked off by a wooden cage. In a little opening in the cage stood a Duath woman, dressed in the standard blue and black of the peacekeepers. She wore a constant scowl that ruffled her messy dark brown fur.

After a brief chat between the quartermaster and the captain, the three newcomers lined up to receive their weapons. Ahsoka received a long-ish blaster rifle with a scope and a flat buttcap affixed to a skinny stock. Finn's was shorter, broader, and more square, with a long compensator and no stock.

Before Rey approached the window, Ahsoka had some words with the quartermaster. The human girl couldn't pick up on everything, but the word "inexperienced" was thrown around. When Rey did walk up, she received a tiny blaster pistol, a blocky thing with a very wide receiver and comparatively long round barrel.

"This is it?" Rey said with an incredulous glare at the thing.

"It's easier to learn on a pistol," Ahsoka explained.

"But it's so small," Rey continued her complaints.

"A pistol is one of the most reliable weapons in the galaxy. You can get a surprising amount of range and power out of one, and it will serve you in a variety of situations." Again, Ahsoka's logic was perfect.

"Okay," Conceded her student, "if you say so."

"Thank you for understanding," Ahsoka said with a smile, and then turned to Therrin. "We're set, Captain. Lead the way to the firing range."

"Yes, ma'am. It's just behind the building, here."

Therrin led them outside through the front door and around the back. There, they found the rest of the officers all gathered. The range was a little square bit of dirt and grass with three stations featuring targets for each at four various distances.

Ahsoka wasted no time in arranging the officers into groups of three to line up at the stations. The first group contained Finn on the far right. At Ahsoka's behest, they began shooting all at once upon their furthest targets. Finn surprised Rey with how well he performed. He may not have been very good at blending in, or dodging First Order patrols, but he certainly knew his way around a blaster. Of the multitude of shots he took only three or four missed, which easily outscored the other two, though they did well in their own rights.

Ahsoka must have also been impressed, because she assigned Finn to teach Rey how to shoot. Instead of putting her at a range station, she instead had them stand off to the left, pointing off into the forest. Finn came up on her right side.

"Alright, so, the first thing you want to do is stand with your right shoulder facing your target," Finn began.

Rey almost pointed out the obvious wobble in his nervous voice, but didn't. Instead, she followed his directions.

"Okay, now raise your arm up and almost fully extend it," he said. Rey did as instructed. "Do you see the tree right in front of us, the one that's a bit shorter than the others? Line it up so the top of your rear sight is even the top of your front sight. Once you do that, squeeze the trigger. Use your whole hand, not just your finger."

Rey followed his teachings, but it was much harder than she thought. To line up the sights and keep them aligned was almost impossible. The moment she got it, they would slide out of alignment again.

Frustrations mounting, Rey waited until her sights synced up again and then fired her first ever shot. What surprised her most was how loud it was. For such a small weapon, it made a resounding _crack_. The sound made her blink hard, to the point where she almost didn't notice the light blue bolt fly wide to the left of her target tree.

"That's ok, no one ever hits their first shot," Finn said. "Try again."

To Rey, it made sense to adjust right if she had missed to the left. This didn't work in reality, however, and just led to her missing to the right. With an annoyed grunt she fired three more shots, all of which failed. After the third, Finn grabbed her hand behind the muzzle. She felt him turn her wrist to the left.

"Try not to rotate your hand," he said. "The hardest thing about shooting a pistol is keeping your hand straight."

Rey took his advice on board and let loose another bolt. Fat lot of good it did, though, for the attempt went to the left again.

Finn hummed in contemplation. "Where are you looking? What are you looking at," he specified.

"The tree," Rey said.

"Don't look at the tree. You want to focus on your front sight post."

"What? Why? I'm trying to hit the tree, so why not look at it?"

"I know it sounds counter-intuitive, but trust me. The tree is what you're aiming at, but the front sight post is _where_ you're aiming."

When he put it like that, it made a lot of sense. Rey shrugged. Her current method clearly wasn't working, so what Finn said was at least worth a try. She lined herself up with the tree again, but this time shifted her eyes around until the front sight was in focus. To her surprise, the target was still easy to see beyond the sight. She squeezed the trigger. This time, instead of whizzing wide, the bolt made a black mark on the bark.

"I hit it!" Rey breathed. Astonishment turned to elation as she lowered the weapon and turned to her friend. "Finn, I hit it!"

"Great job! Try it again," encouraged her fellow human.

The entire rest of that day was dedicated entirely to training. Rey spent quite a while practicing with Finn, emptying round after round at trees of various distances. The more Rey shot, the better she became. While smart enough to understand she was nowhere near an expert marksman, she felt herself getting the hang of it with every passing hour.

At one point, Ahsoka had everyone lined up around the edges of the firing range, blasting off into the forest. This allowed her and Finn to make circuits around and give advice where necessary. Some were obviously better than others, be they more experienced or just gifted. All had some level of skill, however. Ahsoka seemed very pleased with this.

After a few hours of this, she took them out into the forest to practice using cover. They learned how to duck behind trees, the right angles to lean out at, different ways to hold their guns in order to shoot properly, and how to avoid giving yourself away by keeping your gun's barrel concealed. Ahsoka also went over how move between cover points and even briefly how to advance while staying protected.

This was all a lot harder than Rey expected. Blasters tended to get a bad rap as weapons of crime and war. She never imagined the use of one could be so complex, so sophisticated. In that way, Ahsoka had been right. This training gave her new appreciation for a different way of fighting. It taught her a respect for these weapons, and meant she would never underestimate them. And, if she understood the tactics, that meant she could also counter them. It had only been one several hour session, but Rey thought she had already improved, just as Ahsoka said.

They continued drilling through sunset, and past the point of clear visibility. But, Ahsoka wanted to get the most out of the day. These people needed all of the help they could get if they were going to survive the attack. But, they also did very well. They clearly had some training with shooting and working in groups. She felt good about their chances.

When all was said and done, and it was too dark to see, Ahsoka dismissed them all to their homes, with the exception of Captain Therrin, Finn, and a hand picked officer. She brought them into the light cast through the peacekeeper headquarters windows so she could clearly see their faces.

"Ma'am," Therrin said.

"What's going on?" Finn took a much more casual approach.

"I know it's been a very long day, and you're all tired, but I have a special mission for the three of you," Ahsoka began. "Therrin, do you know where the smugglers' camp is?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's about three clicks due north," responded the captain.

Three clicks? That was closer than she expected. But it was actually a good thing. It opened up a myriad of strategic options. She kept this all to herself, though. Best not worry the troops with superfluous details.

"Excellent," she said. "I want you three to go and scout it. Give me a detailed description of the layout, a rough head count, probable patrol routes, and what the terrain around it is like. I can't make a plan of attack if I don't know what I'm working with."

"We'll get it done, ma'am," Therrin said.

"I have the utmost faith in you," Ahsoka agreed. "Go inside to gather whatever supplies you need, and then depart when you're ready."

"Ma'am."

The two Duaths saluted before entering the headquarters. Finn attempted to follow behind them. However, Ahsoka caught his shoulder as he walked past. He gave her a startled look. The Togruta got close, so their faces were inches apart. She spoke in low tones, words meant for him only.

"I still don't trust you, Finn. Not yet. Not with Rey. You claim to be Resistance soldier? This is your chance to prove it. Don't give me a reason to leave you here."

Finn didn't respond. He simply starred at her for a moment before nodding. She let him go, and he scampered off into the headquarters. Ahsoka let her shoulders slump. She hated being so cold with him, so rough, but she had to know if he was trustworthy. Of course, completing this little mission wouldn't prove that. It only meant he knew what he was doing. That would have to be good enough, until either trust formed naturally or he gave her a reason to act. Ahsoka hoped for the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: Let's get down to businesses, and to save... this town. I designed this scenario as an homage to the several times the same thing happened in the Clone Wars. However, I also didn't want to spend too much time on it. It definitely doesn't warrant an entire chapter. The story has more important places to go.
> 
> I know some of you will take issue with how I had Finn teach Rey. I understand that starting with a pistol is actually the exact opposite of what should be done for a first time shooter. However, that's only as we understand it now. Marksmanship in Star Wars is very obviously based on WWII doctrines. Back then, conventional knowledge was to start small and work upwards. I also had Finn teach a very German way of holding a pistol to show the lasting Imperial influence on the First Order.
> 
> Please remember to leave a review, whether you liked this chapter or not. I'm still having computer trouble, so this chapter was also written entirely on my phone. Just like last time, there may be more mistakes than usual. Sorry.


	12. To Fight

Early the next morning, after just a few hours of sleep, Ahsoka woke to find a briefing waiting for her, tucked away in a little folder slipped into the ship cockpit she'd slept in. Contained within it were all of the things she asked for. The smugglers were set up in a tent city of sorts, with only a few permanent wooden structures. The city itself sat in a little glade surrounded on three sides by a natural embankment, while a funnel led out to a landing pad with a docked light freighter. While it was difficult to get a head count from outside at night, Captain Therrin estimated there to be about fifty.

As Ahsoka flipped through these few pages, a plan already took root inside her head. The smugglers, in their hubris, chose an area that was not easily defensible. Any decent commander knew firing uphill was a bad idea, especially when that hill was covered in forest. They probably never expected the local's to put up any sort of organized resistance. How wrong they were.

The final page in the packet brought a smile to her lips. The words _provided by Commander Finn_ accompanied a detailed sketch of the tent city. It rendered the layout, a guess at what each tent was, the location of the freighter, and even a ruler for scale. In his attempt to prove himself, Finn had gone above and beyond what Ahsoka had asked of him, _exactly_ as she hoped.

Finn, whether he knew it or not, had a strong sense of duty, one even a Jedi could learn from. Challenging that set him on a path to success. While what Ahsoka said about not trusting him was true, it was also a ploy to produce this kind of result. However, she hadn't quite expected something so marvelous as a hand drawn map.

Documents in hand, Ahsoka made her way to the briefing room. She had a map to study, and a battle to prepare for. A sense of nostalgia was not lost on her. It felt almost like the good old days. Almost.

…

Rey awoke with the Sun the next morning, though she realized almost immediately how useless such a thing was on this strange planet. What good did using the daytime as a reference do when she had no idea how long the days were. She'd heard Captain Therrin say the cycles were thirty-two hours, but how much of that was day or night? How many hours of sunlight did she currently have? After becoming so used to living every day under a fairly strict schedule, to not have it was jarring.

Rey exited the room and was surprised to find herself staring at a curving hall. So disoriented was the scavenger, she completely forgot about having spent the night on the ship. With a huff and a roll of her eyes, Rey sucked back into the crew quarters and took a brief turn in the sonic shower before exiting into the surprisingly crisp morning.

Exposing herself to the humid early air made her immediately wish she hadn't. Yesterday had been nothing compared to this. Rey grabbed both biceps with an opposite hand to hug across her middle, a vain attempt at retaining warmth. How she longed to be a Duath, to be covered in a coat of soft fur. Perhaps then she wouldn't be so cold.

Shivering and miserable, Rey remembered her orders from the night before. She was to report to the peacekeeper headquarters upon waking up. The human looked toward the general direction of the headquarters with disdain. She did _not_ look forward to walking all that distance outside. If only she still had her speeder. But, nothing to do about it, now. She had her orders. Ahsoka expected her to arrive at any minute.

Rey suffered through the climate and eventually made her way over to the headquarters. No guards stood outside. Likely, they were training out back. Rey figured that's where she would also find Ahsoka. So, instead of venturing inside, Rey walked around the right of the building. There, she saw a familiar person leaning against the wall.

"Finn?" She called. The fellow human turned to her. "What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for you," He answered simply. "Ahsoka told me to wait for you so I could tell you to report to the firing range."

"Ok, so why were you around the _side_ of the building?"

"We approached from this side yesterday, remember? I thought you would take the same route today."

"I thought I _did_ take the same route," Rey argued. Finn shook his head. "Well, whatever. I still made it, right?" She began walking past him.

"I guess so." Finn fell in place beside her.

At that moment, a breeze kicked up. Brief and nothing compared to the gales on Jakku, if carried an element of pure ice that cut straight through Rey's thin garments and sliced into her very core. She shivered and hugged herself, teeth chattering against her will.

"You alright?" Finn asked.

"Yeah, just cold. This place is nice, but freezing."

"Its not so bad."

"Says you. I thought I was gonna die on the way over here."

"Well, hopefully Walalla is warmer for you, then," Finn did his best to be positive. Rey just nodded. Talking made her feel colder.

The two of them met up with Ahsoka in the firing range, along with the rest of the peacekeepers. They had been waiting for the humans to arrive, but not for long. When everyone gathered up, the day's training commenced. It started with a recap of the shooting and maneuvering practice from the day before. Such activity, coupled with the swiftly rising sun, warmed Rey's frigid bones. Before long, she forgot about how cold it was.

The recap only lasted a couple hours, just long enough for Ahsoka to be sure everyone remembered what they had learned. When it finished, everyone gathered inside the briefing room. There, Ahsoka had drawn a mockup of the enemy camp, with data she was sure to mention had been scoured by a small team of Captain Therrin, Finn—who provided a detailed sketch and also drew the chalkboard model—and another officer.

The plan was simple. The peacekeepers would use their small party size as an advantage. The first step was to sneak through the woods. Undetected, they would surround the camp from the ridge which almost encompassed it. When finally in position, on Ahsoka's mark they would open fire. Easy, but according to Ahsoka, the less complicated a plan, the lesser the chance for failure.

When that was finished, Ahsoka gave everyone an hour to prepare themselves, to do whatever they thought necessary to be ready for the fight to come. Rey used the time first to eat—since she hadn't yet that day—and then took a good chunk to just sit in solitude. She found a corner of the lobby to sit on the floor and just zone out for a little. This was something she did often back home. The desert planet often was at a lack of things to do. One could wallow way many an hour possessed of their own thoughts, wandering in flights of fancy and self reflection.

But, after an indeterminate amount of time, Rey found this method no longer good enough. The adventure was simply too vast, the battle too immediate, for her to be satisfied with just sitting in silence. She needed something to do, anything, long as it occupied her brain. The best person at occupying her brain was Ahsoka. So, she set out to find the Togruta.

The search was rather short. Rey found her sitting in a locker room, messing with that rifle she had been issued the previous day. She had it taken apart so the barrel and some various other parts decorated the bench to her left. Currently, she ran a stained white rag over a short cylindrical component.

"You're actually gonna use a blaster?" Rey asked as she entered the room.

Ahsoka looked up long enough to see who had entered before returning to her task. "Yep. Old A-280, workhorse of the Rebellion. This one's even been modified to fire full-auto. Very dirty, though."

"No, I mean, why use a blaster when you have a much cooler weapon?" Rey pointed to Ahsoka's belt line, where she assumed the lightsaber to be.

"And what good would that do me? I'm under cover, Rey. I can't just go whipping it out whenever I want."

"You had no problem using it on Jakku," argued Rey.

"That was different. You were in trouble. I would use whatever weapons I had to if it meant keeping you safe"

Rey wasn't expecting such a tender comment. She looked down to her right, desperate to hide the slight heat building up in her face. It wasn't even unlike things Ahsoka had said before. The older woman was always very upfront with her thoughts and feelings. That it caught Rey so off-guard was the root of the problem.

"In the spirit of that," Ahsoka began. Rey didn't like her tone. "I've given it a lot of thought, and, I want you to stay behind when the rest of us move out. You're not to take part in the battle."

"What? Why?" There were probably a hundred different questions Rey could have asked at that moment, but those were the only two word she managed to form.

Ahsoka shook her head. "Because you're not ready for this level of combat. You hadn't even _touched_ a blaster before yesterday."

"Yeah, that's what the training was for," argued Rey. "Why bother making me do it if you won't let me come along?"

"Training for battle and actually participating in it are two very different things. One day you will be ready for a full on firefight, but not now. You don't have enough experience."

"Bur what about the peacekeepers? They've never been in a battle, either."

"No, but they have years—some of them decades—of law enforcement experience. It's not the same thing, but it's better than nothing, and it's more than you."

"How am I supposed to gain experience if you won't let me fight?" Rey tried to keep her tone from rising, to suppress the anger in her voice. However, by the end of this statement, she was shouting.

"Have you ever shot someone Rey? Ever killed anyone?" Ahsoka asked. The shift in topic confused Rey, so she only shook her head. "Do you think you could do it in the moment, could you shoot someone? Could you decide that they don't get to live anymore?"

"Sure. Of course I could."

Ahsoka let out a short breath. "See, most people will answer _yes_ to that question, only to freeze up when the time comes."

"Ok, but I won't know until I'm put in that situation." Rey made what she thought was a valid point.

"And at that point it will be too late." Ahsoka's was much better. "Do you want to be my student?"

"What? Yes, yes I do."

"Then you have to trust my judgment. You're not coming, end of story." There was a sort of despair in the finality of Ahsoka's tone, the kind of struggle that made her voice just the slightest bit taught. Rey could not respond to it. So, she said nothing at all and simply fled from the room. She expected her friend to call out her name, or chase after her. Instead, she walked down the hall in silent solitude.

It simply wasn't fair. After all of the training, after going out of her way to make sure both of the humans were okay with the situation, Ahsoka was just going to leave her behind? _Finn_ probably hadn't received the same talk. No, he'd gone on some secret mission Rey never knew about. But what did she get to do? What was _her_ mission? To stay behind, like a good little girl. It didn't make sense.

As Rey turned aimlessly down a corridor to her right, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd just wasted so much of her time. For so much of her life, time meant _everything._ Proper time management determined how much scrap she gathered before night fell. It decided whether she got to eat or not. Time ruled her entire life, and she had just thrown out a whole day of it. What else could the previous cycles training have been if not a waste of time, if she were forbidden from using it? That thought alone was enough to get under her skin.

At one point, she ducked into a room and immediately sat herself on the floor facing a corner. Here, her thoughts became a rough miasma of stops and starts, an endless chorus of frustration and complaints. It simply wasn't fair. The blaster at her side would go unused, a tool left to rot in an old leather holster. She considered going out to shoot it and blow off some steam, but that would probably remind her of all the things she was about to miss out on. So, instead, Rey stared at the wall and lost herself to thought.

When the corner—and what a lovely corner it was—lost it's luster, Rey turned around. Sat cross-legged, she took in her surroundings for the first time. This appeared to be a laundry room of sorts, if the washboard, basins, and bars of soap were any indication. Strange, that soap was soap no matter where one went.

A discarded uniform hung draped over the side of a basin. Observing it brought a long smile to Rey's face. Perhaps Ahsoka's training didn't have to go to waste. Maybe all of the things Rey learned yesterday could be used after all. The first thing the Jedi had hammered home with that odd little backwards quote of hers was the importance of planning. So, Rey sat in the laundry room and planned.

…

Rey hiked through the dense evergreen forest, once again ignoring the cold though it were not quite as harsh so late in the day. She adjusted the slightly too big black gloves on her hands. They were only a small part of her ensemble. It had taken her longer than expected, but she'd managed to pilfer a Duath peacekeeper uniform, a bandana for her head, scarf to cover her face, and a pair of heavy black boots.

With her new outfit gathered, Rey waited until the war party moved out before enacting her plan. She would follow far behind them, back enough to avoid being seen or heard. If she timed things right, she would arrive around the same time as the fighting began. Then, she would join the battle and blend in. Who'd bother doing a headcount in the middle of a skirmish? No one would notice an extra Duath, even one a fair bit shorter than the rest.

Foolproof. Truly, a work of near genius. The biggest task was getting there. Thankfully, Rey had attended the briefing. She knew exactly where the enemy camp was, and the attack strategy for overcoming it. Ahsoka could not keep her from this fight, not when she had been promised a part in it the day before. This would not be a waste of time. She would prove herself ready for _this level of combat,_ of the right to call herself a Jedi.

Rey moved from tree to tree as she went, both as a means of practicing what she had learned, and to make herself less obvious. The chances of being spotted this far back from the war party were slim to none, but they still existed. The scavenger learned long ago that discretion was the better part of valor. The more careful she was, the better this would go.

Telling time and distance in the forest was difficult. Rey was so used to the desert, and the landmarks of her home. After a while, the sand became familiar. Certain rocks, bushes, and dunes stood out, and orienting herself was easy. Not so, on Duath. All of these trees looked exactly the same. Traveling uphill the whole way made things even harder, because she could only see so far ahead. Maybe if the birds would shut up their constant chirping she could focus. But, no. With the noise and the hike to occupy her thoughts, she had to guess if she was near.

A great cacophony scattered the birds, granting Rey's wish to silence their song. Like a great crack of thunder, the sounds of a couple dozen blasters firing all at once filled the air. The battle had begun! Rey was later than she'd wanted to be, but still pretty close. She redoubled her efforts. The battle would be short. Rey had to get there fast, or else miss it entirely.

Every step brought the sounds closer. Every heartbeat made the moment more real, deepened the need to join the fight. Rey was outright running, desperate to participate. She jogged on further and further, determination the only fuel to her limbs, and the only one necessary. She was so close, now. Just a little longer.

Up ahead, the incline became even steeper. The noise grew almost unbearable. The shouts of orders given and screams of wounded men pierced through the blaster fire. Occasional streaks blazed through the sky, shots which did not ring true. The shadow of a Duath moving from one point of cover to the next transited against the blue sky. Rey was there, she made it.

The human girl crested the hill. Just as Ahsoka had showed her, she pressed her left shoulder against a tree. With the smallest of peeks possible, she surveyed the scene before her. The ridge was taller than she expected, which made the camp itself seem minuscule in comparison. The smugglers were like mice running between rocks and scrubs. Countless colorful bolts shone off of the tents and few permanent structures they darted between. The smugglers returned fire, but not effectively. Many just ran around in vain attempts to make sense of the ambush. It was chaos. Rey didn't know where to begin.

She looked to her left and right. In contrast to the disorder below, the way in which the Duaths picked their targets was almost clinical. Those hard to read faces looked impassive as the peacekeepers filled the valley below with light, and sound, and death. Rey scanned the crowd for Ahsoka or Finn. The dark forest and the natural cover provided by its trees made spotting any specific person more or less impossible. It was probably better that way. The determination of her immediate peers spurred Rey on. She drew her pistol, pointed it onto the tent city below, and fired.

The blue bolt went wide. This only inspired her to take another shot. A smuggler ran in the distance right through her field of view. Rey aligned her sights perfectly on him, but her attack missed by a wild margin. She fired several more times at him, but never scored a hit. He escaped after a few seconds behind a tent. The girl snarled in frustration.

A group of enemies seemed to have organized themselves into a sort of firing squad. Ten or so fighters took up tactical positions in the camp and opened up coordinated fire on the attackers. A few Duaths shouted at them, but Rey didn't need their orders to engage. She joined the several guns that turned on them. In the sudden haze of blaster fire, Rey lost track of her own bolts. It was simply impossible to tell where her shots were going. She did her best to aim, but whether she found success was a different and unintelligible story. A few of the smugglers fell, and the rest retreated. Rey didn't know if she got any, but hoped her efforts at least helped in driving them off.

The battle progressed. Many of the smugglers pulled further back into their settlement, away from the opposing field of fire and closer to the back center. Even as they retreated, the return attacks from them increased in volume. They were clumping up, perhaps even organizing, in the cover of their homes. Rey wanted to displace, to find a better angle, but she was afraid moving out from behind her tree would just make her a big target. Even though she saw the Duaths moving, the risk seemed too great. So, she remained rooted in place, taking what shots were available to her.

"Phase two!" A shout rose from the ridge, carried by several voices shouting one after another. Rey had no idea where it started, but soon the order permeated through the Duath lines.

Rey looked around her again. To the left and right, the local's began picking their ways through the forest, moving parallel with the camp. Those already on the far flanks began descending onto the valley opening, while others doubtless were about to follow. At the same time, the volleys increased from those in the center, who stayed in place while their allies moved out.

Rey remembered this part of the plan. Once the enemy started pulling back, the two squads on the flanks would move down the ridge to cut off their escape, while also opening up new angles of attack. The squad in the middle was tasked with providing cover fire for them. Rey's position made her part of that center group, which also put her in Captain Therrin's squad. That meant her job was to help protect the other two groups. Rey leaned out from her tree and unleashed a torrent of blue, not with the goal of dealing damage, but to keep the heads of the enemies down. This was her new role. She had to do her best.

The flankers moved fast. They didn't run all the way down, and instead took up positions still within the forest on either side of the opening in the encompassing ridge. Soon, the smugglers position was inundated on three sides with light. Rey contributed on her front, filling the air with bolt after bolt. Her targets were barely visible in the distance and the dazzling spectacle, but that didn't matter. Her job was to suppress, not kill.

"Move in!" This shout Rey recognized as Therrin. Other Duaths echoed him, even as they streamed from the elevated position.

This would be phase three, then. Once the flankers stopped the enemy from escaping, the remaining squad would enter the tent city and take them down. Tighten the noose, as Ahsoka had phrased it. Every muscle in Rey's body constricted. Her mind screamed at her to stay behind the relative safety of the tree. Despite all of this, she joined her comrades in charging down the hill, firing as she went. What fear she felt didn't matter. It was on all of them to get this done, including herself. She had to move, because it was her responsibility.

Rey plunged into the settlement while her allies surged around this way and that. Everywhere she looked found chaos, combat, and blaster bolts. It was louder than ever, now, so close to the enemy guns. Cries of battle and screams of pain rose up through the din of battle, their sources indistinguishable and all the more chilling for it.

Rey had no idea where to go. There were a hundred options to chose from. Did she duck down a side street or attempt to meet up with her fellow fighters? Caught up in the charge, she decided the best thing would be to keep on her current path. At worst it would take her to the enemy. At best, Ahsoka's or Finn's squads. Either was a decent outcome.

However, something entirely different happened. As she made this determination, a man sprinted out in front of her. He must have noticed her out of the corner of his eye, because he came to a sudden stop and turned to her. His brown eyes locked with her blue. A somewhat heavy set gentleman, he would have been handsome if not for the dirt and blood on his face.

The two looked into the face of the enemy, each too stunned to act. That is, until the man grabbed at the rifle slung under his arm. Rey was faster. She raised her pistol and let loose a single shot. The bolt caught him in the throat. He grabbed at the wound with both hands and fell upon his back. Horrible gasping, sucking sounds issued from his cauterized windpipe as he struggled desperately to breath, writing on the ground in fear and agony. Somewhere deep within, he found the strength to lift his head. His eyes met Rey's again, this time filled with a mix of shock and hatred. A trembling hand reached out to her for a second, and then dropped to the grass. His eyes glazed over. He stopped moving.

Rey froze. The pistol fell from her limp grasp as her other hand covered her mouth. She leaned slightly forward on knees bent inward. She couldn't breath, and so lowered the scarf which had covered her face. A long breath passed in through her nose, where it remained. She wanted to scream, but her mouth made no sound. She wanted to run away, but her feet were too heavy to lift. All she could do was stand staring at the man who's life she'd ended.

Rey had been in many fights before. She hurt people, sometimes severely, but never like this. She had never killed anyone. It was a feeling unfathomable. This man was dead now. He had a past, hopes and dreams, people who he cared about and who loved him in return. And now, none of that mattered. All of those things were gone, rendered meaningless, all thanks to Rey. This man no longer existed because of something she had done.

She felt sick and scared, angry and ashamed, all at the same time. Ahsoka was right. She wasn't ready for this kind of thing. No matter what hubris she'd presented about her willingness to take a life, when the time came she couldn't handle it. She wasn't ready.

A red bolt streaking by her head brought her back to reality. Rey snapped to the direction it had come from to see a pair of smugglers aiming at her. She began to step back as a second shot grazed her bicep, but this one from the opposite direction. There were three more enemies on that side. She had gone too far, stayed put for too long, and now the enemy surrounded her.

The five smugglers opened up. Rey did her best to stay mobile, to walk back, but it did nothing. A bolt steered through her left thigh a moment before one hit the opposite shoulder. Rey went to her knees.

Time seemed to slow. She looked up to see a human female draw a bead on her. The barrel of the gun bored through her consciousness as she peered down it. This was what she deserved. For disobeying a direct order, for getting in way over her head, for shooting that man. That evil would now be repaid.

The woman pulled her trigger. A distinct electrical crack pierced the day. A white streak tumbled through the air just in front of Rey's nose. She looked to her right as Ahsoka burst through the tents to land before her. The Togruta spun with a swish of her hand. The Force redirected a pair of bolts into the ground. She completed her spin at the same time as her lightsaber returned to her hand.

The weapon twirled as Ahsoka stepped, both in constant motion to literally beat back the onslaught of encroaching blaster fire. Every swipe served to protect either herself or her human friend. Several times the blade missed Rey by inches, if that. Her instinct was to dodge, to create as much distance as possible between herself and the danger, but something told her not to. Somehow she knew the best thing was to stay perfectly still while Ahsoka worked.

A smuggler fell to redirected plasma. And then another. And _another_. When there were only two left—one on each side—they fled the scene, one of them shouting something about a Jedi.

And then it was quiet. The waning sounds of battle still echoed in the distance, but not to nearly the same volume. Duath was winning. Rey flexed her fingers and looked around, just to make sure she was still alive. She took a ragged breath, and that was what confirmed it for her. Somehow, she made it through.

Well, not really _somehow_. Ahsoka saved her yet again. She looked up at her friend, a weak smile on her lips. She expected to see the expression mirrored in her friend's face. Instead, all she found was a disapproving scowl.

It hurt more than any of her wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I know this chapter will bring up the perennial Star Wars question of "why didn't this person sense this person?" Ahsoka herself explains this in season 3 of The Clone Wars. Force Sense isn't something that can be turned on and off. It's a passive force ability that just sort of happens, and the Jedi have little control over it. This, of course, directly contradicts what Kyle Katarn says about Force Sense, but I like it as a plot contrivance. I understand that having everyone sense everyone all the time can make writing any sort of encounter other than direct combat almost impossible. So, why didn't Ahsoka sense Rey? Because she didn't.
> 
> On a different note, I'm having a really hard time describing Ahsoka's lightsaber sound effects. It's like a speeder, a starfighter, a grav lift, and some guy going "wung wung," all at the same time, but I can't say any of that in the text. I'm glad everyone reading already knows the sound, or I'd be pulling my hair out.
> 
> Please remember to leave a review. Reader feedback is the number 1 thing that keeps me writing. I don't do this for myself. I do it for all of you.


	13. The Power Within

Finn stood outside the ship he had rode in on. Several hours had passed since the battle, and as such, the sun hung dangerously low in the sky. The soldier in him felt a sense of urgency at that. He knew when the sun went down, things became much more complicated, especially in a place with very little technology. They had to get this done fast.

All around him was a flurry of motion. The Duaths moved to and fro, transporting containers of various sizes up the loading ramp and onto the craft. They did this because, apparently, the loading crane was broken. Finn was beginning to wonder how few things on the ship worked. It was a wonder the thing even flew.

These supplies were their reward. Just like they agreed on, the three of them had helped get rid of the smugglers. So, the Duaths provided food for them. The peacekeepers even threw in a few credits, not much but enough to get by. They had also wanted to throw a parade in honor of their saviors, but both he and Ahsoka shot that down. There wasn't time to waste on such extravagancy.

Finn wished this had been done sooner. Loading up a ship required a surprising amount of paperwork. A loading docket had to be made up, and then a shipping receipt, and a manifest detailing every piece of cargo and how much. It seemed a bit excessive for just a little food. But, Finn wasn't an expert. He decided to leave all of that work to the professionals.

None of this explained why he currently stood outside the ship. Ahsoka had sent him outside to _supervise_ , but he knew that really meant _get out of my hair_. Inside, she helped Rey tend to her wounds. The scavenger girl was probably in the middle of quite the tongue lashing. No less than she deserved, really. Were Finn the one in charge, he would have locked her in the detention area for pulling such an idiotic stunt. Not that their ship had a brig, of course. One of the storage lockers would probably do.

"Commander Finn!" Called a familiar voice. The human turned his head to see a familiar face approach.

"Therrin, please, I'm not a commander," Finn told him for what must've been the fortieth time.

"You are to me," insisted the old cat. They clasped forearms. "You lead a successful mission, that makes you a commander."

"I don't think that's how that works." Finn released his grasp, and Therrin did the same.

"Maybe not where you're from." The Captain refused reason. "We cannot begin to thank you enough for all you've done."

"You're paying your side of the bargain." Finn indicated the supplied still being loaded. "That's all we asked."

"A pittance," Therrin scoffed. "Our planet has more food than we will ever use. To allow some for the service you paid us hardly seems fair."

"It's all we asked for. We don't need anything else."

"Does one ever _need_ a gift?" Therrin asked, a rhetorical question Finn didn't feel like answering. "You and your friends will always be welcome in this village as honored guests. It is the most we can do."

"Thank you, Therrin." Finn said with an incline of his head. "As long as it isn't too much trouble."

"No trouble at all." Therrin made a dismissive gesture. "I think the people would be glad to have a Jedi around, every once in a while. Discourages the riff-raff."

Finn's heart sank. All he could manage was a quiet, "yeah, sure."

"Why didn't you mention that General Offee was a Jedi? It would have been a lot easier to earn our trust." Therrin asked the question Finn had been hoping he wouldn't. He could have pointed out that winning their trust had been relatively easy, but such pettiness was beneath him. Instead, he took a deep breath and let it out in a huff.

"The..." he paused. "There are some people out there who don't like the Jedi. Ashla feels as though keeping her identity a secret is the best way to protect the people around her." This was, of course, a gross oversimplification. But, it was technically the truth, and all Therrin needed to know. Ahsoka had spent so much time emphasizing the importance of discretion. He wouldn't be the one to ruin it, not when Rey already had.

"A cruel thing, that. My father used to tell me stories about Luke and his Jedi, about how brave and selfless they were. I wonder what happened to them all," Therrin mused.

"Yeah, I wonder." Finn did his best to give a contemplative shrug.

"Well, no matter, I suppose. She was here in our time of need. That's what I care about," Therrin said. "Should you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Honestly, the only thing we need right now is to be on our way." Finn didn't want to sound as if he were shooing the Duath away, but he saw a chance out of this conversation and took it.

"I'll inform the workers, see what we can do," Therrin said.

"Thank you, Captain."

"No, thank _you_ for everything you've done. We'll talk before you leave, Commander Finn."

Therrin gave a nod, which Finn returned, and then the Captain was off to accost the men for haste. Finn felt bad for them. He hadn't meant to make their jobs even harder, but he had to admit the benefit of doing so. The three of them needed to be off the planet sooner, rather than later. They'd already overstayed their welcome. Every second longer put them in greater danger. Finn remained standing beside the lowered boarding ramp, silently bidding for speed.

…

Rey sat on a box in one of the ship cargo bays, which one she honestly hadn't paid attention to. When they arrived back at the vessel, she had been in so much pain it failed to even cross her mind exactly where she was going. Not that it mattered, anyway. A random room was just as good as any. Mostly, the scavenger was glad to be back to safety, and away from the horrors of battle.

She'd never imagined getting shot would hurt so much. Yet, as one of the Duaths carried her back to the town, the throbbing agony overtook all of her senses. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. The wounds burned more than anything else, a dull sort of heat that made sweat bead on her brow. Every jolt agitated them, sending new proverbial flames through her entire being. With the fast and slightly loping way the natives moved, every step was a jolt. It was dreadful.

The entire way back had been an exercise in tedium, from the pain to the temptation to look at the wounds themselves. No matter how many peeks she took, they always made her stomach churn. The blaster bolts had created black burn holes in her flesh, channels of muscle and bone turned to char. They dried rather quickly, turning the blackened parts to dark ash. Nothing in her life had ever been more disconcerting than watching little pieces of herself fall out of holes in her body and crumble on the ground. Blasters were terrible, awful weapons that she never wanted to have any part of ever again.

She wasn't alone in the cargo bay. Ahsoka stood to her right, hands clasped to the human's shoulder. Rey felt the familiar sensation of the Force flowing through her, that warm comfort like the essence of life itself. A thrumming discomfort accompanied it. If watching herself literally fall apart had been disturbing, then feeling her muscles knit themselves back together was just strange. It didn't really hurt so much as it just felt weird. Indeed, every passing second dulled the enduring pain. Ahsoka had called this process _Force Healing_ , a method through which a Jedi could cure themselves and others of even the most grievous wounds, given the victim survived long enough for the process to complete.

This explanation was the last words the two had spoken. Ahsoka had started with the graze on her patient's bicep, as it had been the least severe. Then came the left thigh, and currently the right shoulder. The entire time, neither of them said anything. Rey felt the disdain wafting off Ahsoka like heat from an engine. She was _not_ impressed, nor should she have been. Rey had made a mistake, and now Ahsoka had to fix it. She had every right to be miffed. Rey just wished she weren't the cause.

Though the silence was unbearable, Rey did nothing to change it. This was her punishment for being so careless, the cold shoulder from her closest friend. A small thing, really, nowhere near the level of the crime. But they would be okay. They always were. No matter what adversities had plagued them in the past, these two always came out on the other side. This would be no different.

So Rey dealt with the silence, pushed through the pain and discomfort as Ahsoka repaired her body. An awkward silence was a small price to pay. What hurt worse was the knowledge that she had betrayed the trust of the older Togruta. _That_ Rey would need some time to get over.

When Ahsoka finished, she took a step back. The soothing warmth of the Force waned swiftly from Rey. The scavenger unconsciously moved a bit closer, desperate to maintain the connection. She took a deep breath. Even then, she was selfish. A peer down at her shoulder revealed a small scab surrounded by new pink skin. The other two looked similar, mostly healed but not all the way.

"That should be good enough," Ahsoka said. "I was never great at healing, so I can't do any more."

"It's plenty. Thank you so much," Rey said, and then paused. She had Ahsoka talking. This was her chance. "Ahsoka, I'm really sorry. I... I'm sorry." The girl wilted as her gaze turned down. Of all the things she could have said, this felt like the most sincere.

"What's done is done, Rey. Being sorry won't change it," Ahsoka said, a rejection of the apology that hurt like a thousand knives.

"You're mad at me."

"I'm not _mad,_ I'm just disappointed," Ahsoka said, and Rey sank even further into her box, because that was so much worse than just anger.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Rey's voice was little more than a strained whisper.

"It better not," chastised Ahsoka. "You got hurt out there, Rey. You could have _died_. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking..." Rey collected herself. For a split second, she considered to make something up so she sounded better. But Ahsoka deserved the truth. "I was thinking how unfair it was to leave me behind. I thought I was ready, and you just didn't trust me, even though you seemed to trust Finn. I was frustrated at how much of a waste of time it was."

"A waste of time? A waste of—" Ahsoka cut herself off with a look up and hands on her hips. When she started again, it was in a more controlled tone. "You're right, Rey. I didn't trust you, because I knew you couldn't handle a real fight. I brought Finn because he's a professional soldier, and I needed all the help I could get."

"Then why—" Rey stopped herself. "No, I'm sorry. I don't want to argue."

"No, say it. Let's get everything out on the table."

Rey hesitated. "Why didn't you let me come, if you needed more help."

"Because I knew something like this would happen. You're too much of a novice right now. I knew you would get hurt and compromise the mission."

"I didn't compromise the mission!" Despite what she just said, that accusation put her into full argument mode. "We succeeded, didn't we? We have the food. It all worked out in the end, right?"

"Sure, except I had to expose myself, use my lightsaber. Once news spreads, everyone on this planet will know there was an orange Jedi with a white lightsaber."

"So?"

" _So_ , what do you think the First Order will have to say about it?" Ahsoka challenged. She allowed Rey time to answer, but she did not. "Every action has a consequence, Rey, and they're not always equal. When the First Order hears the rumors of a Jedi on Duath, they will bring their full power down upon this planet. They will scour every inch in their search, and the people will suffer because of it. Harboring a Jedi is a major crime. The First Order will have neither pity, nor mercy. Those smugglers were _nothing_ compared to Kylo Ren."

"Then we have to help them! We have to stay and fight!" Rey was appalled that her actions could potentially cause such suffering. She had to make this right. It was her duty.

"And do what, take on the entire First Order military alone, with just a lightsaber and a couple cops? There are some things not even a Jedi can do."

"But-"

"No buts. What's done is done. Now we have to move on."

Rey looked down again. "I'm sorry."

"Promise me you won't put yourself in danger like that again."

"I won't, I promise. I'll listen to you from now on." There was a resoluteness in Rey's tone. She wanted to make it obvious she really meant it.

And then Ahsoka wrapped her up in a hug, one so tight it hurt a little. Rey didn't know what to do about such an unexpected gesture, so she just sat there and let it happen. Ahsoka took a long, shuddering breath. When she spoke, it was with a deep strain in her near-whisper.

"Almost everyone I've ever known is dead. My friends, my _family_ , all but a precious few of them are gone. Please don't make me lose you, too."

Rey was stunned for a second, just long enough to take in what Ahsoka had said. Then, she hugged her back, nestled her cheek against the Togruta's shoulder and left _lekku_ head tail, which was quivering ever-so-slightly. She wanted to cry, to let out all of the emotion she'd felt these past several hours. But, no. She would be strong for Ahsoka. She had no idea her friend carried around such sadness. Rey refused to give her sadness in return. Ahsoka had been her rock for so many years. Now, in this moment, she would return the favor.

They stayed like that for an indeterminate amount of time, though it was probably just a few seconds. Ahsoka broke the hug, pulling away so she could meet the eyes of the scavenger girl.

"Okay," she said with a smile. "Go get some rest, now. We'll be underway soon."

"Okay," echoed Rey. She stood and made for the crew quarters, but turned back around after a few steps. "Ahsoka? I'm really sorry."

"I know, Rey. I know."

With that, Rey went to the crew quarters. She picked a bed and quite literally fell in it. There, she lay on her back for a few minutes. Resting, however, did not sit well with her. Her brain was simply too active, even despite the exhaustion in her bones. It became obvious pretty soon that sleep would be impossible.

The excuse that she was just too energized may have been convenient, but if Rey were honest with herself she knew it to be false. In truth, her entire being was wracked with guilt. For betraying Ahsoka, for putting herself in danger, for everything she may yet bring down upon the innocent people of Duath, she felt responsible. She was, of course, and that only made things worse.

How could she be so stupid? Even after explaining everything of Ahsoka, and though she understood her thought process, in retrospect it made little sense. Why get so mad about being left behind? Why feel so jealous of Finn? It's not like Ahsoka would suddenly replace her with some new guy after five long years of friendship. It was stupid, _childish_. Rey was better than that. She had to be better, if she ever wanted to be a Jedi. She knew next to nothing about those secretive warriors, but she did know they were supposed to be selfless. Behavior like what she put forward this day on Duath would be unacceptable going forward.

These revelations were a good mission statement, but they failed to help give her comfort. While she lay there, though she tried, Rey simply couldn't wrest the guilt from her mind. With a deep breath in, followed by a quick huff, the girl got out of bed in favor of sitting cross-legged on the floor. Maybe a little meditation would help. The Force was supposed to bring guidance, right? She certainly needed some of that.

Mere seconds after sitting down, the sounds of a gyro ball rolling up approached. Rey's first instinct was to be annoyed, but she shoved it down hard. Her droid friend was always good company. Since her back was to the entrance, she craned her neck around to watch BB-8 crest just through the threshold.

"Hey, BB," she greeted with a smile. "Haven't seen you for a little while. Thanks for holding the ship down for us."

The little orange astromech wasn't having it. He gave her a few slow, cautious beeps which made Rey's heart sink.

"Oh. You heard all that, did you?" She asked. BB-8 blooped at her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just made a big mistake, is all."

BB-8 paused, and then asked a question.

"No, I really don't wanna talk about it. And I mean it, this time. I just... I think I need a little time to think about it."

The droid posed another inquiry, and this time rocked back toward the hallway.

"No, you're not interrupting. You can stay, if you want. It would be nice to have a little company." Though Rey did want to meditate, she also hated the idea of being alone with her thoughts.

BB-8 made a few affirmative sounds, promised to be quiet, and rolled up next to the girl, placing himself up against her right thigh.

"Thanks, BB-8."

Having the droid around proved a huge comfort. The presence of a friend helped stifle her guilty thoughts, made her feel better about herself. Though the negativity remained, it felt rather muted compared to before.

However, the self-loathing could not be eliminated entirely. Try as Rey might, she couldn't help but berate herself. She was stupid. Selfish. Impulsive. How could she allow something like that to happen? Waste of time? Please. That's nothing more than a petty justification, and she knew it. Nothing she said to herself made joining the battle a good decision.

Was it because of her upbringing? Had she spent so long living alone, looking after herself on a harsh planet, that she forgot how to take direction from someone else? Had she forgotten how to listen? Rey had been the one and only master of her destiny for such a long time, it never even occurred to her that she didn't know how to be taught.

But she had another master, now, a teacher to help mold her. Two, actually. There was Ahsoka, of course, with her gentle hands and boundless patience. There was also the Force. This mysterious entity that supposedly lived in all things reached out to her. Though imperceptible, Rey knew it had to be there. She had felt it before, wanted to feel it again. Maybe a connection to something greater than herself would help her find peace.

Rey reached out to the Force, extended her mind toward that feeling of warmth and life. At first, and for what must have been for a long time, nothing happened. She didn't feel any different. But she would not be discouraged. What good was a Jedi who could not use the Force? If she wanted to continue down this path, a rudimentary understanding of it was the first step. Now was the moment to acquire that.

Time passed, yet she had no perception of it. The worlds continued to spin, but she wasn't aware. Her consciousness slipped into complete and utter silence. Nothing else existed but the meditation. Nothing mattered other than finding her connection to the Force. In this way, a light seeped into her bones, but Rey couldn't feel it. She was too focused, too determined.

Sounds of distress brought her most of the way back to reality. It took her a second to realize they came from BB-8, little beeps and whirs in rapid succession. The droid clearly wasn't happy about something. Rey closed her eyes even tighter in an attempt to block it out.

"BB-8, please," she said, but the little droid kept on. "BB-8, you promised to—" She opened her eyes. "To... oh."

The room was a whirlwind. Little twigs, bits of dust, scrap metal, screws, all of the trash littering the long unkempt floor circled the crew quarters, a perfect orbit around Rey. She looked over to see BB-8 also levitating there, though stationary. He beeped and rotated his gyro ball in an attempt to descend, but that only made him flip upside down.

"Did I—" Rey began to wonder, but the droid cut her off. "Right, uh... I'll put you down, give me a second."

Rey again reached out to the Force, but this time found it already there. She expressed a need to put the room back to normal. It was difficult to explain what happened next. Eyes closed, she extended her left hand. The Force bent to her will, but it was more than that. As much as she deigned to control it, it too gave her ethereal instructions. Just as Ahsoka had said, as she'd heard time and time again in the old stories, the Force helped guide her. She wanted to put the things down, so that's exactly what she did. When Rey opened her eyes, though in slight disarray, the room lay again in stillness.

She sat silent like that for several seconds until BB-8 broke the ice.

"I... I don't know what that was." Rey told a lie, of course. She knew very well what just happened, but to deny it was easier than explaining, both for the droid and herself.

BB-8 waited before asking another question.

"Yeah, I think I can."

Rey held out her palm and once again reached for the Force. It found her. This time, she wanted to pick up one of the twigs across the room. Just as before, the effort was a combination of her own ability, and the Force taking her hand. After a few tense heartbeats, the twig lifted from the ground. Rey wanted to guide it over to her, and it obeyed. Rey upturned her hand so the thing could fall within it. When it did, she let it go.

A smile stretched across her face. Fingers curled around the twig now in her hand. She stood and took off down the hall. BB-8 gave chase, shouting for her to wait up. But she would not. This was too exciting.

"Ashla!" She called when about halfway down the hall.

The curved passage naturally led into the break room attached to the main hold. There, she found the rest of her friends. Ahsoka sat on the semi-circular couch, already looking toward the human girl. Finn leaned against the opposite wall, and only acknowledged her when she entered. His presence, and the unmistakable rattling of the ship, indicated they were already in hyperspace. She had been away much longer than she thought. But that didn't matter.

"What is it, Rey?" Asked the older Togruta.

"Ahsoka, I did it!" She held out the twig. "Look!"

Rey released the object, and it floated from her grasp. She moved it over to Finn. He gave it a curious look, one he directed at her. She nodded. The man took his offered prize. When it did, Rey let it go.

"That's amazing, Rey. Well done." Ahsoka beamed

"Yeah, I... what?" Finn struggled a bit more with his praise.

"It's the Force, Finn. I finally used the Force!" Rey couldn't contain her excitement. Why should she?

"I'm extremely proud of you," Ahsoka said. "You've taken your first step into a larger world."

"Thank you, Ashoka!"

"Now, why don't you come over here and sit down for a while?" Ahsoka patted the couch to her right. "I promised you a story, didn't I? We'll take a little break, then you can get back to practicing."

Grinning, Rey had no hesitation in following this instruction. She plopped down next to her friend, eagerly awaiting the yarn about to be spun. But Ahsoka did not start immediately. Instead, she addressed the other person in the room.

"You can join us too, Finn. I promised you both, after all."

Finn hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with intruding upon what he thought was likely a tender moment between two old friends. Rey extended a hand to him, a wide open gesture to show he was more than welcome. At her behest, he popped off the wall and sat down on Ahsoka's other side.

Ahsoka took them both under her arms. Rey fell immediately into the embrace, snuggling up next to her friend with a cheek against her shoulder. Finn visibly tensed up, but he did relax after a few seconds and a long breath out. When all three of them settled in, and with her humans at her side, Ahsoka began.

"I might as well tell you where I got the surname _Offee_ from. I took it from one of my closest friends, Barriss. We met during the second battle of Geonosis..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: Please remember to leave a review. What did you think of Duath and her people? How much did you wanna smack Rey for disobeying Ahsoka? Remember, characters doing dumb things once in a while doesn't make them bad characters. It's only when those dumb decisions happen every single time that we have a problem.


	14. One Step Forward

Rey sat on the floor of the main hold, starring at a box. Indeed, this was the same box she had lighted upon when Ahsoka had healed her blaster wounds. It had some dust on the top, and she had to wonder if it had come from her, or just built up over time as the ship lay dormant. No, no. Mustn't get distracted. It had been almost a whole day since that happened. Time to move on, and focus on the task at hand.

Once again, and also just like yesterday, Ahsoka lorded over her. This time, the Togruta was a teacher, not a doctor nor disapproving General. The two of them were in the middle of their first ever lesson on the Force. Now that Rey mostly had the hang of calling upon it at will, it was time to learn its various applications.

"Whenever you're ready, Rey," Ahsoka said. "Remember to let go of yourself. Resist the temptation to take complete control, and let the Force guide you. We live in unison with it, not in competition. The will of the Force can also be your own, if you let it in."

With that little bit of instruction—something they had gone over multiple times before—fresh in her mind, Rey began. She held out her hand to the box, several feet away from actually touching it. The Force reached out to her, and she grabbed it with her mind. But, this was the first indication she did something wrong. According to Ahsoka, embracing the Force should be second nature. It should require no effort from her, and take no time at all. The hesitation in finding it, the conscious move toward it, told Rey she had an insurmountable lot of learning to do.

All masters started somewhere, right? Even Ahsoka, powerful as she was, had to have begun as wobbly and unsure as Rey was at that moment. Understanding would not come over night, and mastery of any craft required a lifetime. This was just her first step. Rey would climb it with pride, take the biggest and loudest first step in the history of the Jedi.

She directed the warmth flowing through her bones down into her arm and out the palm of her hand toward the box. The transferal was instant. The moment the Force extended from her, it surrounded the target. Rey couldn't see it, and barely felt it, but she knew it was there. She was one with the Force. It wanted to lift the box.

Rey upturned her palm and began raising it toward the ceiling. Immediately, she encountered resistance. Ahsoka had filled the box with bits of scrap metal and wiring, various debris on the ship, some of the larger food items, and even another, smaller box. All of this made it quite heavy, moreso than Rey could lift on her own. That was part of the point, to see just how far past her own limits the Force could take her, how much stronger she was with it as opposed to without.

The girl reached deeper into the well of light burning within her. More and more of it flowed into her essence, not overwhelming but certainly present. The burden on her hand, the extension of her control over the Force, lessened. Still, the box would not budge. Rey closed her eyes, and immediately wished she hadn't, for she knew what was coming.

"Eyes open, Rey," Ahsoka said. "I know it's easier to focus, but you lose a lot of control if you can't see what you're doing."

Rey opened her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Don't talk to me. Focus on the box."

Rey literally bit her tongue to keep from offering a rebuttal. How was she supposed to focus if Ahsoka kept speaking to her? Saying this would have accomplished nothing, however. What's worse, it would completely ruin the demonstration. This was her fourth time trying, and Rey could feel herself coming closer than ever to success. The last thing she wanted to do was mess it up.

With a deep breath, she zoned in. Energy flowed within her, an ever-intensifying wave of heat, light, and power. Each second she found it unbearable, only to adjust the following second. Then, more came. As her body adjusted to the foreign sensations, so too did her mind. The Force wrapped her up in a fuzzy embrace, while it also pointed the way. Rey rolled her fingers into a fist, drew her hand back, and then thrust an open palm forward again.

The box began to rock upon its foundation, beset on all sides by an outside influence. The two of them had been to this point twice before, but never past it. Rey did her best to tramp down the building frustration. The goal was so close, enough for her to reach out and grab it. All she had to do was let go.

Another deep breath, this one far more centering than the previous. Rey trusted her instincts, the Force, and herself. When she raised her hand, so too did the box lift from the ground. No time for celebration. It was heavy, a weight that required all of her concentration to bear. She coaxed it further and further into the air, a difference of inches, yet one that saw her breath through clenched teeth. Sweat beaded on her brow. She was tired, but refused to stop. Only when the box reached the ceiling, and thus had no further to go, did she allow herself to relax. It was much easier to hold in place than to move, but Rey wasn't sure how long she could hold it.

"Now let it down gently," instructed Ahsoka. "Remember—"

"I know, I know. Trust my feelings." Rey didn't want to cut off her mentor, but the talking seriously cut into her concentration.

"I was gonna say that's our only big box, so if you break it I'm not sure what we'll use for practice," Ahsoka clarified. Rey would have felt bad at any other time for being rude, but she had other things to worry about right then.

If she thought lifting it up was difficult, putting the box back down must've been double the effort. She, embarrassingly, let out a grunt as her hand began to guide it to a rest. Her entire arm shook, tremors that swiftly encompassed most of her torso. But she would not give up, not after coming so far. She would prove her capability. She would make Ahsoka proud.

Slowly, agonizingly, the box made its journey all the way back to the metal floor. The last few feet, Rey felt her strength begin to give out. The box accelerated toward the ground, landing much harder than she'd wanted. But it seemed unharmed. More importantly, it was down.

Rey let the thing go. She fell upon her hands, shaky elbows the only things to keep her upright. The Force leaked away, and she almost forgot to be disappointed at its leaving. Almost. Her strained breaths were a great distraction from how empty she felt without it. As she hunched there hyperventilating, a trio of sweat drops rained from her forehead.

"Breathe, Rey. Breathe." Ahsoka all but whispered. She put a hand on her student's back, rubbing slowly back and forth across her shoulder blades. "You did it. That was a difficult task, but I knew you could do it."

"Didn't you push around a fireball, or something?" Rey countered. "This seems pretty tame, in comparison."

"Everyone has to start somewhere, and you've started stronger than most. Stronger than me."

"What?" Rey twisted to look at her friend. "Really?"

"Oh, you should've seen me when I first started out, I was awful." Ahsoka sat down, legs out straight, next to her. "I never could've done that on my first day."

"I just have a good teacher," Rey deflected. She wasn't used to being praised so regularly, and with such aggression. It was weird.

"Well, that's true, too," Ahsoka agreed.

The two of them shared a smile, and then Rey straightened up to her cross-legged position from before. A moment of contented silence, and then she broached her next subject, one she'd been curious about for a while.

"When do I get to use a lightsaber," she asked, starring at the wall. Ahsoka chuckled, which was _not_ the expected reaction. She shot an accusatory glance at the older woman.

"You're quite a while off from that, yet. You still need to get a better grasp of the Force, or else you'll just hurt yourself," she said.

Rey considered this for a few seconds before returning her attentions to the wall. "Yeah, that's kind of what I thought you would say. I think I'll be pretty good at it, though."

"Oh?" Ahsoka would have raised an eyebrow if she had any. Rey didn't miss the teasing in her tone.

"Yeah," she insisted. "I already know how to fight."

"Do you, now?" Ahsoka continued to probe.

Rey was tired of her attitude. "Ahsoka, you've seen me fight. Remember those thugs I beat up back in Niima?"

"Which ones?"

"Exactly! I know what I'm doing. I should be able to apply what I know to lightsaber fighting pretty easily," Rey said.

"Alright. Let's test that theory, then."

Ahsoka reached beneath her poncho. When her hand reemerged, it grasped her silver and black curved hilt lightsaber. She held it up to her eye level and began messing with a little knob near the top Rey hadn't noticed the couple other times she saw it. Ahsoka flicked it several times to the right.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Turning the power down," Ahsoka said as if that answered her question. Rey gave her a quizzical look, so she continued. "Most lightsabers have adjustments for length, width, and power. This allows the Jedi to set their blade for the situation."

"Okay," the girl said. "I understand the first two, but why would you ever want to turn the power down?"

"If you're not trying to hurt someone. Say you want to take them alive, or when a master wants to train an apprentice." Ahsoka gave her student a sly grin, and Rey put all of the pieces together.

"You're going to train me? Right now?" She made no attempt to hide her jubilation.

"Right now," confirmed Ahsoka with a nod.

"But you just said I'm not ready to use a lightsaber."

"Not in combat, but a little sparring can't hurt. Besides, if I'm going to teach you how to use one of these things, I need to know how good you are. Don't act like you're not excited."

"I am, I am!" Rey said, and then made a little noise. "Thank you, Ahsoka."

"Don't thank me just yet."

Ahsoka flicked on her weapon. It made that distinctive, nearly indescribable sound it did as the white blade shot to life. To demonstrate what she had been talking about, the Togruta touched it to her arm a few times. Rey's immediate instinct was to try and stop her, but she halted when the weapon did no damage at all. It failed to even leave behind a mark.

"See? Perfectly harmless. Usually training sabers would be up a bit higher so it burns a little if you're hit, but I don't think that's necessary right now."

Ahsoka tilted the saber in her grasp and handed the bottom portion to Rey. The scavenger did not take it. Instead, she gave the thing a cautious look.

"What about you?" she asked.

Wordless, Ahsoka ducked her free hand beneath her poncho. It came out with a second hilt, identical to the first but only half the length. Rey's eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

"You have _two_?" She exclaimed. Ahsoka just winked at her. Rey smiled and took the proffered weapon.

And then, she was no longer aboard the ship. Instead, an endless ocean of emerald green grass surrounded her, a gently rolling plane unbroken by hills or trees. Far as the eye could see, did it stretch, off into the horizon and doubtless far beyond it. There were no birds, nor wildlife of any sort. The only sounds were that of a breeze ruffling the fragrant vegetation.

Rey spun around, frantic and desperate as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Clearly, this was wrong. Nothing could take her from the ship to this strange place in such a heart's beat. Yet, there she stood, alone and confused. Well, not alone. Her whipping around located in short order two figures.

One of them was Ahsoka, far younger and wearing a skin tight grey and lavender outfit she had never seen on the Togruta before. White lightsaber in hand, she faced off with a teenage boy. He was a bit short for his age, with luscious dark hair and blue eyes. He carried a blue saber with an interesting D-shaped guard. By his orange jumpsuit and brown jacket, he looked more ready to fly a ship than fight a duel.

Without warning, the two began. Ahsoka called out numbers to the boy, and he responded with different strokes of his lightsaber, all with two hands. _One_ was a strike over the right shoulder. _Two_ , the left. _Three_ came up from the right, while _four_ struck laterally left. _Five_ ended the sequence with a straight downward chop. They separated and returned to their neutral positions from before.

"Again," Ahsoka ordered. "One... Two... Three... Four... Five. Again!"

She gave him no time to reset for this third repetition, but it didn't matter. He performed them, far as Rey could tell, flawlessly. When he finished, Ahsoka switched off her weapon. The boy did the same a second later.

"Very good." She ruffled his hair a bit.

"Hey!" The boy was more distantly annoyed than anything else as he batted her hand away.

"You're really getting the hang of it," Ahsoka continued to praise. "There were no wasted movements, that time, and your speed has almost doubled."

"Thanks, Ahsoka," said the boy.

"Now, let's switch roles, see how well you respond to defending against the same sequence." Ahsoka ignited her lightsaber again and held it at her side.

"Okay, I'm ready." The boy held his out in front of himself and turned it on.

"Alright, now. One..."

They fought, and the ensuing flash dominated Rey's vision for a split second. Then, she was back on the ship, sitting next to Ahsoka with a lightsaber in her hand, just like the one she had seen in that field. But, she hadn't actually been in the field. Of that, she was certain. This felt real. The ship, the now aged version of her friend, all of it had a tangible quality to it. She had never left, and yet just saw something she could have sworn was real. It felt like her fantasies, but far more vivid than those ever were. She couldn't explain it.

She was vaguely aware of a sound, a repeated refrain of the same noise. The seconds ticked by, and the sound became a voice. A familiar one, in fact. It called her name.

"Rey," Ahsoka said. "Rey."

"Hmm, what?" She started, and whipped her gaze around to meet Ahsoka's. "I- I don't... Ahsoka, I don't know what just happened! I-"

"Slow down. You're okay, you're safe." The calming tones of Ahsoka's voice were enough alone to steady Rey's beating heart. Yet, her breaths did not follow suit. "Tell me what happened."

"I... I don't know." she began. "It's like I was still here, but I was somewhere else, but I wasn't really there, either. You were there, but you were a lot younger, and there was a boy with thick black hair. There was a big grassy field. You both had lightsabers, and I think you were training him."

A huge smile split Ahoska's face. "Ezra," she breathed.

" _Who_?" Rey was aghast her friend could be so calm in the face of such an impossible scenario.

"Ezra Bridger," Ahsoka said, as if it was supposed to make sense. "He was a boy I trained back during the reign of the Empire. He was my first student, and one of my finest." Nostalgia oozed from Ahsoka's voice.

"Ahsoka, what the _skiff_ just happened to me?" Rey demanded.

"It's hard to say with just that little information. Has this sort of thing happened to you before," she asked.

"I'm not sure," Rey said, and then immediately doubted herself. "I... I think so. Every once in a while, when I was scavenging, I would see bits of battle, or conversation, and stuff like that, but I thought they were daydreams. I like to sit and imagine stuff like that, so that's what I thought they were, just my vivid imagination."

Rey wasn't sure what she was saying, anymore. All of that information just came out at once. She had never told anyone about her fantasies before. It was embarrassing, even if that person was Ahsoka.

"No, I don't think so," denied the Togruta. "I've met Jedi with similar abilities. Two, of them, actually. Now, I'm not completely sure, but it sounds like a very rare Force power called Psychometry."

"Psychometry?" Rey tested the word on her tongue. It was surprisingly hard to say.

"Yes," confirmed Ahsoka. "Everything we do, from the Jedi all the way down to the smallest insects, leaves an imprint on the Force called an Echo. Some Force-users are able to tap into these, to see little snippets of time left behind by people in those certain moments. This is called Psychometry. Only a handful of Jedi in all of history have it, and now it seems like you're one of them."

"So... it's a _good_ thing?" Rey asked the first question her puzzled mind could form, though it barely understood what Ahsoka had just said.

"Yes, it's a very good thing," confirmed Ahsoka.

"And what do I do with them? The visions, I mean?"

"Well, that's up to you. But, the Force doesn't lie. There is always truth to be found in them. I urge you to meditate on the visions you've had in your past. I'm sure they have some very useful information."

Rey looked slightly down and away. She needed a moment to process all of this. Perhaps the strangest part was how not strange it felt. Firstly, it had just happened. Rey saw no point in denying it or trying to rationalize it away. She touched a lightsaber and saw a vision. It happened. Secondly, while the weirdest thing to happen so far, it seemed par for the course. When taken in the context of everything that happened to her in just the past week—finding a droid and some strange guy, learning Ashla was actually a Jedi named Ahsoka, and getting whisked away to a cat planet—seeing echoes in the Force didn't seem all that farfetched. She had some thinking to do, of course, but Psychometry didn't seem impossible to understand.

"Rey," Ahsoka again brought her back to reality, but much more gently this time. "Are you feeling alright? Do you still want to spar?"

"Yeah," Rey said right away, and then thought for a moment. "Yeah. If anything, after seeing that, I want to practice even more."

Ahsoka smiled. "Somehow, I knew you would say that. Alright," she got to her feet, "go stand over there."

The Togruta pointed to a spot a few feet away from herself. Rey stood, careful to avoid her activated lightsaber, and did as instructed.

"Tell you what," Ahsoka said as Rey to turned to face her. "To make this a little more fair, I'll only use one hand." She activated her lightsaber and, at the same time, curled her left hand behind her back

"Fine by me," Rey said. She didn't see how only using one hand was necessarily a disadvantage in a sword fight, but would accept any help she could get. Rey knew she could never actually win this fight, but wanted to prove herself capable of more than Ahsoka thought.

"Whenever you're ready, Rey." Ahsoka gave her invitation

The two stood for a moment, sizing each other up. Rey had her saber held diagonally out in front of her, not unlike how she might hold her staff. Ahsoka had her weapon lazily at her side, pointed out to the right and down. Her nonchalant attitude annoyed the scavenger. She didn't even care. Rey was zero threat to her. She would prove to her oldest friend just how wrong she was. Ahsoka would take her seriously, whether she liked it or not.

Rey surged forward, saber in both hands. The curved grip was a bit awkward to hold, but she banished this from her mind while coming down for an overhead chop. Ahsoka barely moved. She flipped her blade up to intercept Rey's, pivoted on her front foot, and swished her weapon down to redirect the human's momentum. Rey stumbled forward a few steps, bending low, dangerously close to toppling over. Sheer will kept her upright.

The scavenger looked back at her teacher turned opponent, puzzlement on her face. How had she been rebuffed so easily? Alright, maybe a simple charge was too obvious. She came back again, saber high.

This time, however, it was a feint. The moment Rey was within striking distance, she brought her sword around for a low blow. Ahsoka took a big step back to block. Rey continued with another overhand. Ahsoka stood her ground and defended early, placing her squarely within Rey's guard. The Togruta kneed her in the stomach. While the air escaped from her lungs, Ahsoka dished out an upward slice along the ribs. With the lightsabers turned down so low, the impact was mostly blunt force mixed with a little bit of heat. She took a few big steps back.

The two faced off for a moment. Rey sized up her enemy while Ahsoka wore a markedly smug smirk. This wasn't going well. The situation called for a new strategy. Rey put one foot in front of the other, and then again, a slow advance more calculated than her previous attempts. Ahsoka's only reaction to this was changing her guard from high to low so her blade pointed at the floor instead of Rey's nose.

Rey took the bait. She tried a lateral strike across her midsection. Almost immediately after she moved, Ahsoka countered by raising her point. Rey practically walked her throat into it. The surprise and pain stopped her short. Ahsoka paused just long enough for Rey to assume she had a moment's reprieve, to be lured into a false sense of security. Then, Ahsoka came forward. The human girl couldn't come anywhere close to following the flurry of motion that assaulted her, but she felt every blow. Six, seven, eight times did the strikes fall.

The last hit spun Rey around a half-turn. With a strained shout, she whipped back around. The attack was one of instinct, a counter fueled by enraged desperation. Again, Ahsoka blocked early. The girl expected another knee, but it was not so. Instead, Ahsoka brought her dormant arm around and thrust her palm out. An unseen toss had Rey sailing back across the cargo hold to slam into the wall close behind. The none-too-gentle impact left her coughing through lungs once again forcibly expunged.

"Hey," she struggled to call. "No fair, you cheated!"

"Do you expect your enemies to play by the rules?" Countered Ahsoka. Rey didn't answer, only looked away. "Alright, fine, you're right. To make up for it, how about this time..." Ahsoka deactivated and stowed her lightsaber. She waggled empty fingers. "...No hands."

The older woman tucked both arms behind her back. She leaned forward just slightly, chin out, waiting to be struck. Rey was no fool. She knew damn well this was a trick. However, after getting beaten so badly, she would accept any invitation to finally score a hit.

Rey charged, determined to slice off that chin. Ahsoka straightened, a simple motion to avoid the blow. Rey struck diagonally downward, yet missed as Ahsoka sidestepped. An attack from the opposite direction had the same result. Rey cut horizontally, only for Ahsoka to duck. This was her chance. She came straight down. Ahsoka stepped and stood, dodging by a healthy margin. What happened next, Rey could not explain.

Ahsoka sidekicked her in the stomach, but this was only to push her back. The Togruta, in direct defiance with her age, leapt into the air. She flattened herself at the same time as her ankles found either side of Rey's neck. Ahsoka twisted around with immense strength. Rey uprooted, flicked into a flipping spiral by Ahsoka's manipulation. The Togruta let go once Rey had completely tumbled over. The scavenger girl landed on her back. The lightsaber she'd been loaned clattered across the floor, deactivating as it came to rest against the far wall.

Rey took in a long, gasping breath. She hadn't even hit the ground that hard, but the experience of being so totally ragdolled kept her there flat on her back, starring at the ceiling. The room seemed brighter than she remembered.

Somehow, through all of this, Ahsoka managed to land on her feet. She came over to the defeated girl to loom above her head. Rey glanced up at her as Ahsoka looked down.

"You clearly have experience. I've seen you fight, I know what you can do, but you're unrefined. You lack proper training," she said.

"So teach me." Rey begged, distressed by how thin her voice sounded.

"In time," Ahsoka agreed. "Learn the Force, and then we'll move on to swordsmanship."

"Yes, Master." Rey said, but found the title to taste odd." Ahsoka," she corrected.

"Keep my lightsaber, for now. Familiarize yourself with it, so we can hit the ground running when it comes time for saber training," instructed Ahsoka.

"Ok, I will." Had Rey still not bee short of breath and dazed, she would have been elated. As it stood, a sort of aching excitement was all she could muster.

With all of that settled Ahsoka left, doubtless headed for the cockpit.

Rey remained there on the floor. She thought such a complete, utter, and literal thrashing would leave her disheartened. Instead, it invigorated her. This was how a Jedi fought. Rey had only seen the smallest taste of it, but she wanted more. She wanted to achieve such mastery for herself. If the only way to reach such a goal was to master the Force, then so be it. She resolved to work even harder than before, so as to one day surpass her teacher, to make Ahsoka proud. She tried to move, but only succeeded in taking a strained breath. Maybe a nap first, and then Force mastery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's pretty damn obvious Rey has Psychometry. If anyone involved with the production of the Sequels knew the first thing about Star Wars, they would have realized that being called to by the Force and having visions when you touch stuff is already a Force power. But they didn't, so instead we got some weird destiny bullshit.
> 
> Please remember to leave a review. How did I do on my first ever lightsaber-to-lightsaber fight scene? Like I said, I've done dozens of fight scenes both unarmed and with a variety of different weapons, but this is my first foray into lightsabers. I think it's pretty good, if I do say so myself.
> 
> Remember, kids: don't hurricanrana your friends, unless you're fighting for the belt.


	15. Consequences

Quathree burned. Blaster fire ripped through the streets, tearing asunder both people and their woven wood homes. The previously peaceful citizens screamed and died under the hail of singular hatred. This was their price for harboring an enemy. Whether they knew it or not, these people would pay for their crimes against the First Order. Conquest arrived on Duath.

Captain Phasma moved into cover behind one of the houses. The curved, cornerless nature of it made finding true concealment difficult, but not impossible for an experienced soldier like herself. Behind her advanced a large group of stormtroopers , blasters firing red at will into the defenders. Even as they fought, some fell to the more colorful menagerie of return fire.

She hated to do it, but Phasma had to give the locals credit. Thought grievously outnumbered, these overgrown felines put up a much better fight than a majority of her opponents. They could have been fine warriors, at a different time. Shame, really. But, they made their beds, allowed themselves to aid the enemy. For that, they had to be punished. Phasma was their judge, jury, and executioner.

Leaning out from her position, Phasma immediately found a target-rich environment. She lined up on one of the native Duaths that hadn't even seen her yet, and filled his chest with crimson bolts. He cried and fell, soon to be dead. She then shifted left and took another. By the dying sounds of this one, it was probably female. Not that it mattered, of course, but Phasma never enjoyed killing women. They were such a rarity on the battlefield. It felt almost like a betrayal. She would still do it, though, time and time again, as was her duty.

A duo of shots lit up her helmet in the split-second these thoughts crossed her mind. She blinked, more for the sudden splashes of light than anything else. Long had she become accustomed to the feeling of how bolts dispersed against her armor, the impact and slight heat. At this point, getting shot was little more than an annoyance. She turned her sights to easily locate the Duath who had shot her. The man noticed this and tried to duck back down behind his broken bit of wall. Phasma placed a bolt between his stupid ears as he went. He did not come back up.

Phasma displaced to move up the street. She needn't look back to know her troopers did the same. Their orders were to follow her. Loyal soldiers always did what they were told. Those disloyal got what was coming to them, one way or another. The galaxy would learn this, as the Duaths were. The stars belonged to the First Order. They would not be denied.

Given the diminutive size of this town, that the battle would be short was a foregone conclusion. Though they were fine warriors, ferocious in their craft, and even with obvious militia forces taking up arms, these primitives could not hope to stand against the might of such advanced technology. This was the most superior fighting force the modern galaxy had ever seen. Their victory here was a matter of time.

As Phasma took up her new position behind what remained of another house, she heard the sounds of combat already dying down around her. Indeed, only a few defenders remained in this little square they squabbled over. To their credit, they did not surrender. Perhaps they knew how little good it did them, or they'd heard about what happens to prisoners. Either way, they elected to fight until the bitter end. Phasma would give that to them. She lined up a shot.

Before the Captain could squeeze the trigger, a loud whistle filled her ears. She looked up just in time to see a pair of Duaths scrabbling over the house she found refuge behind. They jumped down. One of them lamped her upside the helmet with a hefty club. The impact rocked her. Spots swam in her vision. She spun around on big steps in order to remain upright.

The other Duath—a woman—landed behind her and took a swipe with a vibrosword at the same time. Phasma faded back from the house and each of them, avoiding the blow by inches. There was no standoff. The Duaths charged her. Phasma pushed her gun down so it swung on its strap around behind her cape. In the same motion, she drew and extended her quicksilver staff, a weapon taller than herself and sharpened on the ends.

She blocked a downward swipe from the vibrosword, and struck upward with the other end at the male club-wielder. Her cut missed, but did succeed in keeping him back. Phasma attempted to come over the top of the vibrosword with the same opposite end, but the female Duath dodged. Phasma used this momentum to start a deadly spin on her weapon. The woman faded back, quick steps away from the whirling dervish of death. She only made it a few steps before colliding with the house, however. She hesitated before ducking off to the right, just in time for Phasma's staff to hit the structure.

The staff became lodged in the wood. Phasma tried to arrest it, but to no avail. The club man came on. She was forced to leave her weapon there and spin away to dodge his attack. She come out of her rotation with a big heel kick to his face. He stumbled into the house, which was the only thing to keep him upright.

The swordswoman tried to impale Phasma from behind, but her weapon was loud. The captain slipped away from it and spun a backfist into the woman's cranium. The Duath snarled and let loose a push kick of her own. Phasma allowed herself to be hit, to slam her back against the house. When the Duath sliced at her again, she easily popped off the wall and out of the way. The vibrosword cut clean through the wood, and in doing so set free Phasma's staff. The Captain kicked it back up into her grasp. All according to plan.

The club man—who hadn't done much up until this point—continued to be useless. He gave a great shout as he charged at Phasma's back. The Captain thrust the rear end her weapon out behind her back and allowed this incompetent fighter to impale himself upon it. He gasped as the staff passed through his abdomen.

It was the swordswoman's turn to give a warcry. She charged forward and chopped straight down. Phasma removed her weapon from the defeated man to knock the sword away with the opposite end. As the man fell to the ground, these two women engaged. The Duath used the momentum from being parried to bring her sword down low. Phasma blocked and cranked the other end of her staff downward. The Duath put up her defenses, then tried to strike vertically again. Phasma took a wide grip to block between her hands. As a follow-up, she wrenched her staff to the left and cut up with that side.

Both women spun, the Duath to disengage, and Phasma to chase. The latter came out of this into a trio of downward weapon twirls, each of which disguised a strike. The Duath, wisely, continued to back away. When she thought there was an opening, she came forward with a chop. Phasma deflected the blow to one side and stabbed. The Duath quickly countered with a horizontal slice, which Phasma stopped by again spacing out her grip. The Captain tried vertically with her staff's back end before cutting straight up with the front. The sharp tip sliced the swordswoman from navel to nose, a deep gash that would have disemboweled a human. The Duath simply stood there, stunned fear in her wide eyes, dead though she didn't know it yet. Phasma spun her staff around her head once before hacking the feline down with a cut at her shoulder.

Phasma took a second, mostly to catch her breath, but also to admire her handiwork. A good fight always deserved a bit of reverence, even a simple one. When finished, she holstered the staff in favor of her blaster and stepped out into the street. She watched the final two defenders fall one right after the other. With this little square taken, only small pockets of resistance likely remained. Soon, the entire town would come under the control of her men. For the glory of Supreme Leader Snoke.

…

General Armitage Hux stood in the middle of a dim room lit only by a single solar light hanging from the ceiling. If he understood basic architecture correctly, this was clearly some sort of police or military building. The space he now occupied had once been an interrogation room.

The waning sounds of battle leaked muffled through the stone walls. The crack of blaster fire, the occasional scream of agony, shouts of unintelligible orders, the things one normally associated with a fight barreling toward its conclusion. To hear them was oddly cathartic, for Hux. They meant everything so far had gone to plan, and that was a good thing indeed.

In front of him, chained to the floor so he had to face the entrance, knelt a local Duath. Unlike most, which were grey, this one had brown fur along with a jagged scar down the left side of his pinched feline face. This man was silent, calm in his captivity. His breaths came in even repetitions, and he starred straight at the door. Many people may have been fooled by this show of tranquility, but Hux knew better. This was a ruse. The Duath went out of his way to appear nonplussed, which revealed his true discomfort. Hux did not, however, know what the root of that discomfort was. He had time before his superior arrived. May as well find out.

"Captain Therrin," Hux said." Did you give yourself that title?"

"I _earned_ it, in the Rebellion," Therrin said with a snarl.

"The Rebellion," Hux repeated. "Fascinating. That was quite a while ago. But, I hear your people are long-lived. Around two-hundred years, correct?"

"What's it to you?" Therrin asked. As if it had been planned, the dying scream of a Duath tore through the building.

"I was just thinking about all of the lives being cut so tragically short," Hux said with very obviously fake concern.

"They defend their homes. From you. They wouldn't have to die, otherwise," Therrin shot back.

"And they still don't have to, if you'd just cooperate," reasoned Hux, though he knew it to be pointless.

"I have nothing to say to you, _Imperial._ " Therrin spat the last word.

"You don't have to say anything, Captain. This isn't an interrogation, not yet. We're just talking."

"And what makes you think I want to talk?"

"Because it's in your best interest." Hux moved around the bound alien to look down into his eyes. "Your village burns for no reason. We know the Jedi was here. You have no real allegiance to her. You could save your people so much suffering if you just tell me what I want. Them and you."

Therrin hesitated, obviously considering it, but then he broke eye contact. "I don't care about myself."

"No, clearly you don't, or else we wouldn't be having this conversation." Hux bent down, face close to Therrin's, voice a near whisper. "But everyone cares about something, Captain. And we will find what you care about, starting with those closest to you."

Therrin's gaze snapped to the humans. "No," he uttered.

"Think about it, Captain." Hux then stood. He put a comlink to his lips, and spoke in a normal tone. "The prisoner is ready, sir."

The door opened. A pair of stormtoopers entered. Each of them dragged behind them a Duath female, one older and grey, one much younger with brown fur just like Therrin. The two were deposited on the ground, where they lay facing each other. As the troopers left, another figure entered. This one was tall and imposing, a black and silver mask on his face, cape flowing behind him. He came in, and the door shut itself.

"Lord Kylo Ren, sir," Hux said with a flowery bow.

The Sith Lord did not acknowledge him. Instead, he flicked two fingers upward. The women sprang to their knees, each momentarily controlled by some unseen entity. A shiver ran down Hux's spine. He had made the mistake of angering Kylo Ren once before, and had found himself similarly controlled. It was a terrifying, claustrophobic experience to literally feel the air collapse in around him. He never wanted to be attacked by the Force again. These women were likely afraid just as he had been.

"Liethlee. Myna," Therrin said to the older woman, and then the younger. "I'm sorry, this wasn't—"

"Tell them nothing, Therrin," Leithlee cut him off. "This is exactly what we fought against all those years ago."

Therrin downcast his eyes. Hux had to admire the strength of these people, even if he mostly hated it. They were resolute, powerful in their determination. It meant nothing, of course, compared to the overwhelming authority of the First Order, but there was some value to be had in it.

"How quaint," Kylo Ren said. He moved over behind Leithlee

His lightsaber ignited. Myna screamed. Therrin looked up to see that pulsing, undulating red blade burn a hole in Leithlee's head from temple to temple. The look on her face, wide eyes and mouth agape, betrayed the shock of her final moment.

"No!" Therrin cried. He tried to go help her, but the chains held him down. He thrashed against them, noble efforts all in vain. Even if he got free, there was nothing he could do.

Kylo retracted his blade. The lifeless body of Leithlee slumped to the side. No blood nor viscera accompanied her death, yet it could not be mistaken. Myna screamed again, the kind of screech that could only be made by a daughter who had just watched her mother die. Therrin still tried to reach his wife, for what good it did. He made an almighty racket in his attempts to break the chains which held him to the ground. The strength of these people was surprising, seeing how thin they were. Not that he had any chance of breaking durasteel bonds, of course. Though clearly distraught, neither of them shed a tear. Distantly, Hux wondered if these people were capable of crying.

"Silence, both of you," ordered Kylo Ren. They both complied within seconds, afraid and likely in awe of the cruelty displayed before them.

"What do you want?" Therrin asked with a strained voice.

Kylo said nothing. He shifted to his right to loom behind Myna. She closed her eyes against heaving breaths. Every muscle in Therrin's body tensed up.

"How did that feel? Did it hurt? Are you sad? Angry? Wish it had been you and not her? Hold on to that feeling and tell me," he put his hilt against the base of Myna's skull, "where is the Jedi."

"Please, not my daughter. I'll tell you anything, just please, let her go," pleaded Therrin.

"You're not in any position to bargain. I know the Jedi was here. We're looking for her, and her droid. Tell me where she went."

"Please, daddy," Myna said. Her voice was barely intelligible through the emotion which tainted it. "Just tell him. Don't let him kill me. I don't wanna die."

Therrin looked away, barring his teeth in a grimace. Respectable, that even in a moment like this, his loyalties were still tested. Hux could almost see the Duath's thought process at work. On the one hand, he had fought in the Rebellion and doubtless had great respect for the Jedi. On the other, he'd already lost his wife. He didn't want to lose his daughter, too. The internal conflict was intense, but brief, as Hux thought it would be.

"Walalla," Therrin said. He then met Kylo's eyes, a glare that pierced through the Sith's visor. "They went to Walalla."

"She told you this?" Prompted Kylo.

"No," denied Therrin. "She has two humans with her. I overheard them talking. They said after Duath, they were going to Walalla."

"Good." Kylo said. He glanced over to Hux.

"I'll begin making the preparations, sir." The General removed a small datapad from his pocket and got to work.

"I gave you what you wanted," Therrin said, "now let my daughter go."

"Don't worry, she will be free." Kylo said.

He again turned on his weapon. The red blade pierced through Myna's skull and out of her forehead as if some kind of sick red horn. Therrin growled incomprehensible words and sounds as his entire being fought against the restraints. Pitiful, really. This man knew he could do nothing to stop someone so powerful as Kylo Ren, that his daughter's wound was fatal, and yet he still kept on. While there was honor in fighting, there was also some to be had in knowing where you were beaten. An unfortunate minority of people understood this.

Kylo withdrew his blade, but kept it activated. Myna fell in the opposite direction of her mother, yet equally deceased. It was oddly artistic, in a macabre sort of way. The father, the last of his family, flanked by the bodies of his wife and child, facing down their killer. A holofilm couldn't have set a better scene.

"You monster!" Therrin said. Rage had reduced his voice to a raspy growl. "You were supposed to spare her!"

"I said no such thing," Kylo said. "Harboring a Jedi is a capital offense under the First Order. For that, in accordance with our laws, this entire village will burn."

"But Duath isn't under First Order control. We're a neutral system," Therrin argued.

"Look around you. My men are everywhere. Even now they bring this planet to heel. Whether you were ours at the time is of no concern, you will be soon enough. Then, your punishment will be unavoidable. You can either delay your death by a few days, or face it now with pride."

Therrin continued to lock eyes with his conqueror. His breaths came in progressively heavier bouts, little puffs that soon caused his entire body to convulse. Then, with one deep inhale, what little defiance he still had departed from him. He went limp, held up only by the natural structures of his skeleton. He looked down, silent and contemplative.

"Good choice," said Kylo Ren. "I'll be sure history knows how noble you were in your final moments."

In a swift motion, Kylo raised his weapon and brought it down on Therrin's neck. Head and body rolled in different directions. Hux pretended to be absorbed in his datapad for the sake of work, but really it was so he didn't have to look at what just happened. He could deal with a lot of things, many terrible sights, but his limit was decapitation. It was just barbaric. He wished his master would choose other forms of justice.

Kylo switched off his lightsaber and rounded on the door. Hux followed him out, stowing his datapad as he went. The order to update the briefing had been sent, so he had no real reason to keep it in hand. In silence, the two of them departed the building.

Outside, a view of the destruction greeted them. Smoke, fire, and the smell of death rose up to meet the pleasant sunshine. It would have been an exquisite day, if not for the horrible conquest. It still was, in a way, just one very different from the peace and tranquility these people were likely used to. Hopefully, when this was all said and done, they could return to their previous ways of life, safe under the jurisdiction of the First Order. Maybe the prosperity brought to them by proper planetary management and free trade would elevate their standard of living. That would be nice.

"Do you actually plan on seizing the rest of this planet, sir?" Hux asked after they had been walking for a few seconds. "We may as well, if we're already here."

"Yes, that was my thought process," confirmed Kylo. "I'm leaving Captain Phasma in charge of the operation."

"She could probably do it with just the soldiers we have, but I'll direct some reinforcements here," Hux said. "And what of Walalla? It's right on the border of the New Republic. Aggressive actions against it may garner unwanted attention."

"I'm well aware. Open war with the New Republic is not a risk we can take. I will personally lead a small contingent there," said Kylo.

"A wise decision," agreed Hux.

"We cannot forget our other objectives, however," continued the Sith Lord. "I want you to take over control of the _Castle_ investigation. Tracking it down would be a massive blow to the Resistance."

"Understood, sir. It would be my privilege." Hux accepted with a slight bow of his head. It would be inappropriate for a man of his station to show any sort of giddiness, but inside he felt awash with joy. This investigation was a huge deal for the entire First Order. It would be another notch in his belt of accomplishments.

"See to it, General. Now, I should go find Captain Phasma. I want her briefing," Kylo said.

"Should I inform her of your new orders ahead of your arrival?" Hux asked.

"No, I'll tell her myself. No need to waste your time."

"Very well."

"You did good work today, Hux. I'll make sure Supreme Leader Snoke knows how instrumental your efforts have been as of late."

"Thank you very much, sir. You honor me with such praise."

"Don't let it go to your head." With that final warning, Kylo Ren departed. He turned down a side street, moving with purpose. How he knew Phasma was in that direction, how he always knew these things, Hux would never understand. But, it wasn't his place to.

Armitage allowed himself one long blink to clear his head. He had a lot of work to do, and a short time to do it in. Success in this new assignment, in combination with everything he had done so far, may just be enough to garner him a promotion. As an esteemed officer of a prestigious organization, he could not let such an opportunity pass him by. He made his way to the makeshift landing site on a hill just outside of town. The sooner he got started, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: Come, now. Did you really think I would introduce an adorable race of cat-people and not viciously murder them?
> 
> Making Phasma actually do stuff is turning out to be quite enjoyable. I usually don't like the time spent with my villains quite so much, but I'm having a lot of fun with her. Maybe it's because she's such a blank slate, that I'm more free to explore her character than I am with most others. Whatever the reason, she's an absolute joy to write. I couldn't resist giving her a little fight in this chapter.
> 
> Please remember to leave a review, even if you didn't like this chapter. Nothing motivates me like hearing from my fans.


	16. Shivering Discoveries

Rey sat in the oversized co-pilot's chair on the ship Ahsoka had helped her and Finn steal. Despite the age, and the roughness of its leather, it was a surprisingly comfortable thing. To sink into the material provided an amount of coziness she'd only ever experienced when sleeping in her old hammock. Though, this being a chair meant it was considerably safer. A sudden move in one direction most likely wouldn't send her sprawling across the deck. It felt oddly secure, a shelter from the cold of space.

Of course, that security may have also come from present company. Behind the controls sat Ahsoka. She didn't really fly the thing, however. Rey had learned that, once in hyperspace, most ships required little in the way of input. Faster-than-light travel could only be conducted in straight lines. In that way, autopilot took over the simple task of keeping the craft on a singular path. So, Ahsoka reclined in her seat, only to act if something bad happened. Hopefully, nothing did.

Rey looked out upon the void of space as it stretched in front of her. It was dazzling, the stars turned to streaks of light and the distortions of color moving at such impossible speeds made kaleidoscope upon the cockpit windows. She could have looked forever. But, no, the girl forced herself to look away. She had heard talk of travelers who did just that, looked at the stars and remained transfixed. It was called _space blindness_ , if she remembered correctly. Something best to avoid, probably.

Instead, she looked at Ahsoka, who seemed oblivious to her gaze. It had been a little while since their little sparring session. Though, it would be more accurate to say the utter walloping Rey had received. Unconsciously, she touched the lightsaber now tucked behind her belt. A small smile caught her lips. Having it made her feel official, like she had finally started on her path toward being a Jedi. Utterly failing to keep up with Ahsoka showed her just how far she had to come, but if anything that was her greatest inspiration. If her teacher was the absolute height of a Force-user, then she would reach that level and perhaps even surpass it. Doing so would just take time.

Time, right then, was the issue. All of the visitors to Jakku always made space travel sound so romantic. None of them ever mentioned how uneventful it was. It made sense, though. Space was a vast, empty chasm filled with mostly nothing. Of course it lacked for things to do. Now, Rey knew better than to wish for something to happen. It usually did, and not in a good way. However, this endless flight was a bit of a snore. The scavenger never thought to see the day when she'd look forward to hitting the ground again. And yet, here she was.

"We have to be getting close," she said after a while.

"A few hours away, now," Ahsoka confirmed.

Rey sighed, a long breath which turned into a yawn. She placed an elbow upon the console, careful to avoid flipping any switches or pressing any buttons. After a long blink, she propped her cheek up in the palm of this hand. Idle fingers picked at something on the console, likely a bit of pain about to chip off.

"If you're bored, what could you be doing?" Ahsoka asked, a knowing a slightly playful tone.

Rey hesitated. She knew very well what Ahsoka wanted her to say, but was reluctant to say it.

"I could be training," She said finally.

"You could be training," echoed Ahsoka. "I had this same conversation all the time with _my_ Master."

"You never talked about your master before. What was he like?" Rey asked.

Ahsoka's sideways glance said the Togruta saw through her attempt to keep from training. After all, it was pretty obvious Ahsoka never mentioned her master before, since she only revealed herself as a Jedi about a week ago. The older woman took the bait all the same, though.

"My master was... he was amazing. A lot of people called him the greatest Jedi who ever lived. Of course, to me he definitely was. He was so strong, and smart, and the best fighter in the universe, but he was so much more than just strong. He was kind, almost to a fault. Compassionate, caring, generous, gentle, everything a Jedi should be. I saw a side of him most people never knew about, but I wish they did. He was... he was just incredible."

"It sounds like you two were very close."

"We were, closer than I think masters usually were with their padawans. Most Jedi held their students at arm's length, but not him. I don't think we was capable of that. He was more than just my mentor. He was my best friend, my big brother. I loved him."

"I thought the Jedi weren't allowed to love." Rey narrowed her eyes. The chastity of the Jedi was legendary, even in the old stories. They were pure beings, outside of distracting sentient emotions.

"That's—" Ahsoka pause "—a very common misconception, one that an unfortunately large number of Jedi believed." There was a sadness in Ahsoka's voice. "The Jedi Code forbids _attachment_ , not love. In a broader sense, we can feel our emotions, just not give into them. If you read the texts word for word, they actually encourage love, for strangers, for the galaxy, for plants and animals, and for the people you care about."

"But, how can you love someone without being attached to them?"

"It's very difficult. I think that difficulty is why so many never bothered trying. It was easier that way. I never really got the hang of it, myself."

"You were speaking in the past tense earlier. Did something happen?" Rey brought things back to the previous discussion, since this was something she could probably talk about for several hours.

"Yes." Ahsoka studied the control console. "He's… no longer with us. He gave his life to protect his son from a great evil."

"He sounds like a good man."

"He was."

A somber silence filled the cabin. Rey had never met this man, yet she thought to still feel his power reverberate through the ship. His strength, grace, nobility, and the love Ahsoka had for him made it feel as though he were still there. Reverence shocked through her. For Ahsoka, the greatest person Rey had ever met, to look so completely up to someone, meant this person must've been larger than life and then some. The scavenger could have asked more questions, but refrained because of the clear emotional strain it took on her mentor. There would be time for stories later.

"Now," Ahsoka said, breaking the stillness, "go work on your Force Sense. It's one of your most useful abilities. I'll send someone for you when we arrive."

"Ok," Rey said. She scampered off to the cargo hold she and Ahsoka had trained in early in the day, that little empty room unofficially designated as their practice grounds. Maybe with the spirit of Ahsoka's master invoked, she could make some great leap in her training. Probably not, but maybe.

The time passed with little to no progress made. Rey understood the basic concept of reaching out with her feelings, of stretching her consciousness beyond its mortal tethers. She could feel Ahsoka, the Jedi obvious from the pull of her gravity. There was also another presence, likely Finn, much weaker and just a little erratic. The girl could not, however, pinpoint what they were feeling. Her own emotions were hard enough to sort out. How was she supposed to recognize them in others, if everyone experienced their minds differently? To study on her own wasn't working out. There were simply too many questions, things she didn't understand, in order to make any real headway.

Eventually, BB-8 rolled in. He informed Rey that, according to the pilot, they were making their final descent to the planet Walalla, and she should prepare for landing. Smile on her face, Rey stood from her cross-legged sit and followed the little orange and white droid to the cockpit. There she found Finn already strapped in to the chair situated at the console off to the right. Rey took her spot in the co-pilot's chair and fastened the seatbelt.

A few seconds after she did, the ship hit the atmosphere. The entire thing lurched while fire engulfed the windows. A light blinked to indicate they had entered the atmosphere, as if that weren't obvious, and a little siren wailed to say the reentry shields were down. The shield generator still didn't work, after all. Thankfully, this ship had been modified with thick heat-resistant armor specifically for the purpose of landing without the need for protective shields. Last time they landed on a planet, Ahsoka explained this was common for smugglers so they could devote more power to engines at all times, which raised _many_ more questions than the one it answered, but Rey never thought to push the issue. Even right then, she had more important things to worry about.

The ship blazed through reentry much quicker than it did on Duath. The fire gave way to luscious green grassy fields and rolling hills far as the eye could see, broken occasionally by large boulders or a copse of trees. Far off to the northeast a range of tall, jagged mountains cut up into the horizon. Rey wondered what could be on the other side of it. She leaned forward, close to the glass as she could get. In her opinion, this planet was even more beautiful than the dense evergreens of Duath. She'd never seen anything like it.

As they traveled high in the air, eventually they came across a giant hole in the ground. Rey watched as huge pieces of machinery moved around it, digging into the exposed rock to further the tiered wound. She was much too far up to see any people, but there must've been hundreds working on such a massive endeavor.

"That's one of the many quarries here," Ahsoka said. "Walalla is a mining planet. It's rich in minerals and lesser metals like copper, steel, and zinc."

"Copper?" Rey echoed.

"Durasteel isn't the only metal in the world. Lesser materials have uses in small electronics, wiring, medicine, construction, a lot of things," explained Ahsoka.

"A lot of blasters have copper wiring in them," added Finn.

Rey made an inquisitive noise and nodded her head to one side. She'd never stopped to think about what all of the various bits and bobs she pulled out of various spacecraft were actually made out of. To her, it didn't matter so long as she got a nice payday. She had probably encountered many of these lesser metals—a term she hadn't even heard before a few seconds ago—and never realized it. The galaxy became more complex with each passing day. She had to be careful, or get left behind.

They passed another quarry, this one attached to cutE little town. Ahsoka pointed out that settlements often cropped up around industries to provide homes for workers. Eventually, other people move in and it becomes a town. She also said entire cities existed round some of the larger mines, but those were only found in the mountains. Rey very much wanted to see what a mountain city looked like. Maybe if they had time, Ahsoka could fly them over one.

After several more minutes of flight, they came upon a ginormous structure. Rey couldn't even describe it. The thing appeared to be a large enclosed rectangle, surrounded by several smaller squares open at the top. In the back, according to the direction they approached from, sat two long, skinny rectangles. Behind them, a flat area had been cleared and paved over. As their ship approached another light freighter came down in one of the squares. That was when Rey realized what this was, a second before Ahsoka spoke.

"Here we are, Resh spaceport. Named for Tomhas Resh, one of the original colonists on Walalla," explained the older woman.

"It's huge!" Rey exclaimed.

"It's pretty small, actually," observed Finn. "Compared to other spaceports, anyway."

Rey shot him an incredulous look before returning to the viewport. She wanted to scour her eyes over every bit of this place, take it all in so she never forgot her first time ever seeing a spaceport.

Ahsoka brought the ship to the bottom left corner square. After aligning the craft up with it, she took it down. The landing sequence went smoothly. Unlike on Duath, which had been a rather small and not perfectly level landing pad, this paved area made for a touchdown Rey barely noticed. It was more sound than anything else. If not for the clear cessation of movement, she may not have even known they'd landed. Of course, much of that probably fell on how excellent a pilot Ahsoka was.

"And there we go," she said, a sense of finality in her voice. She rotated her chair to take in both of her humans. "Remember our goals. We're here to refuel and take a look at the hyperdrive. That's it. Don't go wandering off or getting into any trouble."

"Understood," said Finn with a nod.

"We won't," promised Rey at the same time.

"And, Rey, I have bad news for you specifically," Ahsoka continued.

"Okay..." the girl trailed off, concerned.

"Walalla is even colder than Duath," said Ahsoka. Rey wanted to protest, but the older woman continued before she could. "I chose a part of the planet currently in summer, but even then the temperature almost never crests sixty. But, long as you stay inside, you should be fine."

"We won't be here long, right?" Rey asked.

"No." Ahsoka shook her head. "I don't even want to be here a day."

Rey took a deep breath, and let it out in a huff. "Ok. I can be cold for a few hours, I guess."

"Ok." The Togruta smiled at her. "One more thing. Keep your lightsaber hidden. _No one_ can know you have it, understand?"

"Right."

Rey took the implement in her hand. After looking over herself for a moment, she dropped it down the front of her scavenger outfit so it hung between the two layers of fabric. There was still pretty obviously something there, though, so she then tucked it under her brown belt. That did the trick. The hilt disappeared almost completely behind the loose layer. Anyone who saw its faint imprint would probably think it a blaster or even a stun baton. She looked up at Ahsoka, who gave her a nod.

"Finn? Any questions?" Asked the Jedi.

"No. I'm ready to set out," he said.

"Then let's go."

Ahsoka stood from the pilot's seat and walked past the humans, who fell in behind her. BB-8 booped, and then followed them. Rey could hardly keep her feet on the floor. The fluttering butterflies in her stomach kept her high above it. She was about to set foot on her second new planet, the third she had ever been to overall. Who cared if it was cold? Honestly, the only thing that worried her was the short amount of time they were to spend there. She wanted an opportunity to observe the people, to learn about this strange and brilliant new place.

All of this enthusiasm died the moment she stepped off the boarding ramp. The cold air penetrated straight through her skin and into her very core, a sort of deep-rooted chill the likes of which she never even felt possible. She instantly hugged herself in a desperate attempt to retain warmth. That her companions seemed unaffected somehow made it worse.

"Oh my—" she stopped herself short of cursing. "How do people _live_ in this kind of weather?"

"Inside, mostly," answered Ahsoka. "The winters here are long and nearly inhospitable. Those who can't go underground to mine wear envirosuits or drive mechs."

"Okay, let me rephrase that. _Why_ would anyone live here?" She would not let her teeth chatter. No matter how cold it became, she would not sink to such an embarrassing low.

"Work. A good payday is enough to inspire almost anyone."

"It's really not that cold," Finn commented. Rey could've kicked him.

"Says you," she sniped instead.

"Ashla's not complaining," he countered.

It took Rey a second to figure out why Finn had used Ahsoka's assumed name. When she did, the girl bit back the comment she was about to make. It contained the word _Jedi_ , and probably was better left unsaid.

"It'll be warmer inside," Ahsoka said, pointing to a big open rectangular entrance. Rey yearned for it, for anything that would get her out of this torture.

"Then what are we waiting for?" She posed, unconsciously upping her pace.

"You two go on ahead. I'm gonna see about getting some fuel and maybe a few parts. Wait for me in the cantina. I won't be long," ordered Ahsoka.

"And if this place doesn't have one?" Finn asked.

"Finn, if a spaceport has nothing else at all, it will have a cantina. Just follow the signs."

"We'll wait for you," Rey said with a nod.

Ahsoka returned the nod, and then angled off to the left, destined assumedly for a little window in that direction. Both Finn and Rey stopped to watch her for a moment. Eventually, the former jerked his head toward the big entrance, and they walked that way.

The moment Rey stepped through the threshold, a wave of warmth washed over her. She shivered as the cold left her body. Finn laughed at her, which almost earned him a smack, but she managed to hold herself at bay. There were bigger things to worry about. Like finding the cantina, for instance.

Just as Ahsoka had said, there were signs hanging from the ceiling at regular intervals pointing directions to nearby features. The one closest to the entrance said the cantina was straight ahead, so the humans continued on their path.

These hallways were much less populated than Rey would have thought. Spacers visiting Jakku often spoke of how dreadful spaceports were, how busy and confusing they could be. Rey saw no evidence of that, here. There were people—mostly humans—scattered throughout, but nothing she would call a crowd. Indeed, for the size of the place, it seemed rather empty. Backwaters like Walalla probably didn't see many visitors, though.

Turns out, the cantina wasn't far from the place where they had landed. This must've been on purpose, an attempt to bring travelers to a place where they could spend money. Well, the owners of this spaceport were about to be disappointed, because these three newcomers didn't have much in the way of credits. What they _did_ have went toward fixing and refitting the ship. Likely, Ahsoka only wanted them to wait there because it was an easily recognizable landmark.

Finn and Rey took one step inside the cantina and stopped. Just like the people they passed out in the corridors, this room was mostly occupied by humans. There were a couple Rodians, a Dug who must've been miserable, three Twi'leks, and a species Rey had never seen before with a big round head, a proboscis, and white fur. The rest were human. The population of the cantina itself explained why the halls were so empty. Everyone was here, drinking, talking, enjoying the soft tones of the house band, playing cards, and overall having a good time.

By their attire—safety gear, orange vests, and heavy coats tied around their waists—these were almost all mine workers. Those few who weren't dressed like this stood out like a sore thumb as most likely traders and tourists. Firmly in the latter group, Rey felt woefully out of place. She wanted desperately find a place to duck and hide in, which presented the problem of how exactly to go about doing so.

"Do we just... sit down?" She asked Finn.

"I don't know," replied her friend. "I've never been to a cantina before."

BB-8 chimed in that places like this usually didn't have waiters, or anything, so they should be free to seat themselves.

"Look at that, the droid is more worldly than either of us," Finn quipped. BB-8 gave a prideful bloop.

"Come on, I think I see an open booth over there," Rey said.

She took the trio to a spot three places down from the front door, along the right hand wall. She placed BB-8 next to the wall and then sat down next to him in a hope to keep the small droid mostly concealed. She didn't trust these people, and so wanted to make sure her mechanical companion didn't draw the wrong sort of attention.

And then the boredom set in. Rey realized rather quickly that those who weren't part of a larger group had nothing to actually do. Sure, there was some entertainment to be found in people watching, but only in so far as she could enjoy the fun of others. This wasn't a place to come and relax, it was a place to be rowdy and various stages of drunk. Thus, it catered fully to the latter and not at all to the former. But, Rey wasn't there for fun. She was there to wait. This wasn't supposed to be engaging for her. That didn't keep her from wanting a little excitement, though.

A few minutes later, Rey wished she had been more careful with her whims. A pair approached the table. One of them was an old man, still handsome despite his advanced age, a black leather jacket, white shirt, and black pants on his person. The other was a Wookie, his brown hair flecked with occasional grey, a bandoleer full of slugs across his chest.

"Interesting ship you got out there," the man said. He had a smarmy way of speaking with his rough voice.

The Wookie added his two cents, a howl Rey couldn't even come close to understanding. Her and Finn exchanged glances, both clearly taken aback by this strange and random encounter. Rey had no idea how to respond, and clearly neither did Finn, but they needed to say something so he took the lead.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do. In fact, it looks _real_ familiar," said the man.

"Plenty of 1300s out there," Rey stated.

"Ones that heavily modified? I don't think so," countered the man.

"How do you know it's heavily modified?" Finn asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You mean other than the fact that it's missing the part between the front forks? Gee, I don't know..." the man trailed off, giving his furry companion enough time to provide what sounded distinctly like a laugh. Rey didn't know why, but that annoyed her in particular. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Look, sir, I don't know what you're getting at. We're just here to refuel and get our hyperdrive fixed. That's all." She made her best attempt at diplomacy, though deep down she knew it wouldn't work.

"What? What's wrong with the hyperdrive?" A strange cavalcade of emotions played across his face, one that saw him go from concern, to anger, and back again, only to settle on some sort of indifference.

"I don't know," Finn shrugged. "It clearly doesn't work right, though. Our pilot is working on it," he said. Rey shot him an accusatory look. He shouldn't have revealed the had another person with them.

"Let me take a look at it," insisted the man, followed by his friend.

"What?" Finn said it before Rey could.

"Let me take a look at it," the man repeated. "Come on, I know that system better than anyone."

"You come over here and accost us, then you offer to help fix our ship? I don't think so." Rey was loosing her patience with this conversation. While she didn't think it was a good idea to fight a Wookie, she could probably run away from two old people.

"Look here, girlie, that's _my_ ship you have out there. It was stolen from _me_. If you've let anything happen to it, then we're going to have a disagreement," threatened the man.

" _Your_ ship?" Echoed Rey with a raised eyebrow.

"We didn't do anything!" Said Finn at the same time.

"Yes, _my_ ship, and once I get the hyperdrive fixed, I'll be taking it back," he said.

"Care to repeat that?" Rey said. She slowly rose to her feet. BB-8 gave a cautionary beep.

"Rey, don't," warned Finn.

"I said that's _my_ ship, and I'll be taking it—"

"Han?" A familiar voice suddenly said. All four humanoids looked in near perfect unison to the source of this voice. BB-8 put his periscope up over the booth to get a look. The man's expression softened at the sight of this newcomer.

"Ahsoka?" He said, voice barely over a whisper with confusion and wonder.

"What? Rey said.

For all of the feats of acrobatics Rey had witnessed from her aged friend, nothing compared to how quickly she moved in that instance. One moment, Ahsoka stood several feet away from them. The next, she'd wrapped her arms around the old man. The Wookie brayed something at the sight of this embrace. The old man, for his part, looked awash with emotions, his face unreadable as his breaths came in shallow repetitions. He made to return the hug, but hesitated. A second later, he placed one hand on the back of her head, and the other around the small of her back.

"It's so good to see you again," Ahsoka said into his shoulder.

"What...I—What are you doing here?" The old man struggled to say.

"I could ask you the same question."

They remained like this for a few seconds longer, but Ahsoka broke it off. After all, there was one more person to hug.

"Chewie," she said, voice one step from cracking.

Where the old man had hesitated to display any affection at this meeting, the Wookie showed none at all. Indeed, his large arms allowed him to pull Ahsoka in, rather than the other way around. The Togruta partially disappeared in his thick fur as his big forearms engulfed her back. His howl filled the room, and drew several eyes to them. Rey took notice of them, but decided she didn't care. If Ahsoka wasn't bothered by them, than she wouldn't be either.

"I know, big guy. I know." Ahsoka whispered. She gave him a squeeze that bunched handfuls of fur in her fists, and then pulled away. She took a step back to regard them both in a single gaze.

"I can't believe it," she mused. "I always thought I would see you two again, but not like this. I guess I should've known we'd meet in a cantina." The smile on her face was distant, a nostalgia drenched dream of times gone by.

"Do you... _know_ these two?" Finn asked. Rey was glad he'd managed to find his voice, because hers had done an excellent job of hiding.

"Oh, where are my manners? Finn, Rey, BB-8, meet Han Solo and Chewbacca."

Rey took in the two men before her in a new light. Now that she knew they were friends with Ahsoka, they weren't so suspicious nor nearly as frightening. Indeed, any hostility they may have projected withered away entirely. They were all friends here, one way or another. Since she still didn't know what to say, the scavenger girl simply nodded.

"You're with them?" Han asked, pointing.

"I am," Ahsoka confirmed with a nod.

"But, what are you doing on Walalla?"

"Hoo, boy," Ahsoka breathed. " _That's_ a long story."

"Gimme the short version, then," insisted the man.

"Alright, let's see..." Ahsoka trailed off. "We—"

"Ahsoka," Finn stopped her, clearly aghast at what she was about to do.

"It's okay, Finn. We can trust them." She gave the newcomers a fond gaze. "There's no more dependable duo in the galaxy."

The Wookie had something to say about that, apparently a comical remark, judging by how both Han and Ahsoka grinned. Finn drew into himself, likely embarrassed at having been so thoroughly turned away. Ahsoka glanced at him.

"You have a good point, though. We probably shouldn't talk about anything out in the open. Let's go back to the ship," she suggested.

"That's what I was asking them about," Han said. "How did the _Falcon_ get all the way out here?"

"That's part of the long story, but we needed a quick getaway, and there's no faster ship," Ahsoka said.

"A getaway from where?" Han prodded.

"Jakku."

"Ja— _what?_ What was my ship doing on Jakku?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that. How'd you let it out of your sight long enough to get separated from it?"

Han paused. "It's a long story."

"That's what I thought. We both have some catching up to do," Ahsoka said.

The Wookie made a comment.

"But that still doesn't explain how it ended up here." Han continued to pound on this single question.

"I flew it," Ahsoka said matter-of-factly.

"You _what_!?" Han was horrified, furious, and betrayed all at once. "I specifically told you that you weren't allowed to fly my ship. Come on, Chewie."

The Wookie made a noise, and then both he and the old man dashed off out of the cantina, back in the direction of the landing area. Ahsoka, watching them go, crossed her arms.

"Why does no one like my flying?" She wondered allowed with a shake of her head.

"I think you're a great pilot," Rey said. Funny, that she only found her voice when the two strangers were gone.

"Thanks, Rey. Come one, let's catch up to them before Han has an aneurysm."

"Ok," said the girl. With that, they departed together, hot on the heels of Han Solo and Chewbacca, which left Finn and BB-8 alone in the cantina.

"So, we're not gonna relax for, I don't know, five minutes? No? We're just gonna run off to our next crazy adventure. Cool. That's... that's cool." He called after people who were no longer there, and couldn't hear him.

BB-8 made a series of beeps. Finn looked at him for a second, and then hung his head.

"Between you, and now the Wookie, I feel like I have even fewer people to talk to," he said. BB-8 answered him. He sighed. "Let's just go, before they leave us behind again."

Finn slipped out from behind the booth. He walked around to place BB-8 on the ground. Though, this was more of a guided fall than an actual lift.

"Holy—How does Rey pick you up so easily?" Complained Finn. BB-8 offered a rebuttal as the human straightened up.

"I'm going to assume that was a positive statement," Finn said.

BB-8 gave a cheery response. Finn rolled his eyes. He started toward the exit, While BB-8 rolled beside him.

"One of these days, I'm gonna learn your language, and then there'll be trouble."

BB-8 posed a question which Finn guessed was a repetition of his last word.

"Yeah, trouble," he confirmed. BB-8 said something, and he sighed. "Never mind."

The two of them left the cantina. Up ahead, Finn could see Rey and Ahsoka walking together back they way they had come, happily chatting away. Beyond them, the old man and his Wookie rushed down the corridor. Finn considered jogging to catch up with the girls, but rejected the idea immediately. They were all going to the same place. No need to waste energy getting there as a group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had to scour to find information about Walalla. The only reason we know anything about it is because it has been named in a few different old EU books. That's it. Even its location in the galaxy is speculative. I found one source from an old browser-based fangame which said Walalla was a cold, mountainous planet which mainly exported iron. I'm sure this is wrong, but since I have nothing else to go on, I went with it. I seem to have a propensity for selecting extremely obscure Star Wars things to focus on.
> 
> I need to make a clarification. In a previous author's note, I stated that Ahoska said Force Sense is a passive ability that Jedi have no real control over. This isn't exactly true. In this episode of the Clone Wars I mentioned, Ahsoka was talking specifically about Farsight, the power that—amongst other things—allows Jedi and Sith to sense other Force-users. Other types of Force Sense like Empathy, Telepathy, and Astrogation, can be used at will. The Force is complicated, y'all. If I'm having this much trouble, I can't imagine what it must've been like for actual padawans.
> 
> Please remember to leave a review. Are you happy that Han and Chewie are back in the picture? How many feels did you get when Ahsoka was talking about her master?


	17. Altering the Plan

When Rey and Ahsoka made it to the landing pad, they were greeted by quite the spectacle. The ship's boarding ramp hung open. The muffled sounds of Han shouting to himself could be heard emanating from the inside. Chewbacca, on the other hand, had somehow managed to swing himself up on top of it and currently looked over some components on the outer hull. Meanwhile, a Teedo—who clearly had been assigned to the refueling task—clicked away in his native language at the two people disturbing the job he'd just been given.

"How's it look up there, Chewie?" Ahsoka called.

The Wookie gave a long and rather expressive howl.

"That bad, huh?" Ahsoka shook her head.

Rey watched as Chewbacca sprinted to the other side to check on a satellite dish of some sort.

"Are they always like this," she asked. Simultaneously, Chewbacca ran to the back of the ship.

"More or less,." Ahsoka answered with a cock of her head. "They're always doting over their _Millennium Falcon_."

" _Millennium Falcon_?" Rey repeated.

"That's the name of the ship."

"Why didn't you mention that before?"

"You never asked."

Rey made an annoyed hum and frowned. She distinctly remembered Finn asking if Ahsoka knew the ship, and that the old Togruta had promised to explain later. But, in fairness, quite a lot had happened since then. Rey still marveled at how fast everything for her had changed. In just a week, she had visited two whole planets, helped form a militia, took down some smugglers, obtained a lightsaber, and taken her first steps toward learning the Force. ...Not necessarily in that order, but the disarray of her thoughts proved just how hectic it had been. And, with the introduction of these two old spacers, things seemed on the fast track to becoming even more chaotic. She wasn't sure how much her simple scavenger heart could take. Such was the life of a Jedi, she supposed.

"Should we... help them?" Rey asked after a moment.

"No, it's probably best to let them get it out of their system," denied Ahsoka.

A muffled shout came from inside the ship, so absorbed by the vessel that the only discernible thing about it was it came from Han.

"We can't hear you, Han," Ahsoka called back. The old man shouted something quick and likely dismissive. Ahsoka sighed and shook her head.

The distinct whir of a gyro ball gave away the approach of Finn and BB-8. Rey turned to see them coming up from behind. She did her best to give them a reassuring smile, but she knew it looked more strained than anything else. What had started as a joyous reunion quickly became a burden to their goals on this planet. Rey knew it, and she felt similar disdain from Finn. At least Ahsoka seemed to be enjoying herself.

"He doesn't look happy," Finn said while peering up at Chewbacca.

"Well, wouldn't you be if you found your ship in this state?" Ahsoka posed with a gesture toward the _Millennium Falcon_.

"I don't think it looks all that bad, really," said Finn.

"Seriously?" Rey raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, for sitting in a desert for who knows how long? It could be much worse," reasoned Finn.

"I know exactly how long it was there. Two years," provided Ahsoka. "I remember the day they towed it in. I couldn't believe it."

"Must've been a shock," said Rey.

"You have no idea."

Han appeared on the boarding ramp, slightly out of breath and white hair a bit askew.

"You gonna stand around staring all day, or are you gonna come help?" He shouted down at them.

"Not sure," Ahsoka called back. "I was enjoying the show."

"Just come on," Han said before disappearing back into the ship.

Ahsoka shook her head again, but this time with a smile, and made for the boarding ramp. Rey, Finn, and BB-8 followed, in that order. The droid made a comment about pilots and their ships, one which all but confirmed one of Rey's initial suspicions about him. He had served as an astromech droid. Now, not all starfighters could accept a BB unit. While being an astromech didn't necessarily mean he was part of a fighter team, it did narrow down his possible points of origin. Only the New Republic made extensive use of fighters capable of accepting BB units. While Rey never had a reason do doubt BB-8's story, to have it all but proven felt like a weight off her shoulders.

On board the _Falcon_ , Ahsoka led the search for Han. He wasn't too hard to find. The old man stood in the cockpit, staring at the controls, hands on his head. He grabbed fistfuls of his hair and took a deep breath in.

"How did this happen?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. He dropped his hands, leaving an unkempt mop in their place.

"This is what a ship looks like when it's been sitting in the desert for a couple years," commented Ahsoka. "How did you ever lose track of it?"

Han spoke as if no one else were there. "We were on a run smuggling supplies to buyers on Kril'Dor. It was all pretty routine, get in, deliver the goods, get out. We made the stop just fine, but when we got back to the landing pad, the _Falcon_ was gone. Someone made off with it."

"You couldn't just use the transponder to track it?' Rey asked what she thought was a reasonable question. Han, however, looked at her as if it were ridiculous.

"I ripped that thing out years ago. Didn't need it," Han said.

"But... that would make your ship illegal in the New Republic," Finn said slowly.

"Kid, in my line of work, laws are really just suggestions."

"We've had this argument twenty times, Finn," Ahsoka said. "You will never win it."

"None of that matters anymore, anyway," Han said. "I got her back. I'm home. Finally, I'm home."

He looked around the cockpit, seemingly with reverence for the first time. It sunk in for him. Rey could see the change in his expression. He realized how great this day was, how he'd been reunited with his ship after what must've felt like forever. Rey knew very well the connection a captain could have with their home vessel. She couldn't even begin to imagine how Han must've felt in that moment.

"'It's the will of the Force, that brought us together here," Ahsoka said.

"What makes you say that?" Rey wondered.

"It's far too convenient, otherwise. There's no such thing as coincidence. Everything happens for a reason, even if we don't see it, and sometimes for ill, but nothing is truly random," explained the Jedi.

"Not even ten minutes, and you go off spouting that nonsense," commented Han.

"Don't even try to tell me you don't believe in the Force, Han. You've been around it for way too long."

"I believe in the Force, don't get me wrong, but I don't necessarily think it cares about me," said the old man. " _Work_ brought me here, not some mystical hoo-ha."

"Work?" Parroted Ahsoka. "What kind of work?"

"The same thing Chewie and I have been doing for the past six years: Smuggling supplies for the Resistance. A cell on Aruza, in this case."

"You're with the Resistance?" Rey couldn't contain her excitement. Han gave her a sideways glance and a scoff.

"What's it to you?" He asked.

"It's a proof of my point, is what it is," Ahsoka said. "As it turns out, we've been trying to reach the Resistance. We stopped on Walalla for fuel on our way to Trunska in hopes of finding someone with the proper connections."

"Well, if it's connections you want, then you've come to the right place, but why do you want to reach the Resistance so badly?" Han said.

Ahsoka gestured to the little robot resting at her ankle. "This BB unit has information vital to the war effort. A map, which should lead straight to Luke."

"Luke?" The emotions playing upon Han's face were indiscernible. He was astonished, surely, but otherwise far too conflicted for interpretation. "As in _Skywalker?_ As in, my brother-in-law?"

"How many other Lukes do we both know?" Ahsoka asked with a grin at Han's antics.

"And this map, have you seen it?" Han grew more persistent with every word.

"I plugged it into the holo table, but it's corrupted. According to BB-8, it's only half of a map. Luke left one half in a secret location, and the half the other half with Leia. Lor San Tekka found the part we currently have, so now we need to find the Resistance, reunite with Leia, and complete the map."

"Wait, Leia has half of a map to Luke? But, she's been looking for him all this time. Why bother looking if she has even the faintest idea where he is?" Han tried to piece together the puzzle.

"She might not know she has it. It would be just like Luke, to hide something like that in plain sight," Ahsoka reasoned.

"Yeah, that _does_ sound like him," Han distantly agreed. "Well, what are we waiting for then? We'll load up the _Falcon_ , flash on over to Aruza, and then I'll take you to one of my contacts."

"A contact?" Finn began. "Why not just straight to this _Leia_ person?"

"I don't know where she is. She keeps her location secret, so the First Order can't find her. Only a few people know at any time. Since I'm an obvious target, I'm not one of them." Han explained.

"Why not go to your contact first?" Rey asked. "The sooner we get to the Resistance, the better, the way I see it."

"I don't disagree, but I have a job to do. My contractors need these supplies. Besides, it's on the way," Han reasoned.

"I agree," added Ahsoka. "The intel isn't going anywhere, and the more stops we make, the harder we will be to track."

And that was more or less the end of the argument. Rey still thought going straight to the contact was the best course of action. They could part ways with Han and Chewbacca so the two of them could accomplish their mission, while her group went on to find this Leia. But, Ahsoka had other ideas, apparently. Rey had learned her lesson about defying her friend turned teacher. She wouldn't make that mistake again. Also, Finn seemed to be of a mind with the majority. Even if Rey had good points to make, she was outvoted. So, she remained quiet.

"It's settled then. I'll go get Chewie, and we'll start loading up the _Falcon_." Han left without waiting for a response.

Now, Rey had assumed _load up the Falcon_ meant putting new cargo on it with the help of either dock personnel or whoever owned the things being transported. Instead, it meant taking crates that had already been loaded onto whatever light freighter Han and Chewbacca had come there on, and placing them onto the _Falcon_. Apparently, they had been just about to leave when Ahsoka's group made landfall. As such, they were all ready to go. But, instead of going, they had a slight sidetrack upon seeing their old ship.

Han, with unintelligible assistance from his Wookie friend, was quick to explain his reasoning. The freighter they came in on was considerably slower than the _Falcon._ Simply towing it would slow them down dramatically, and having someone else pilot it would even moreso. In this instance, time was paramount. They had to get to Aruza, and then a planet called Takodana, quickly as possible. That meant taking only the much faster craft. Someone from the Resistance could come pick it up later.

So, Rey found herself helping ferry crates from ship to ship. She had never actually taken part in anything like this. After all, most of the spacecraft she encountered weren't in any condition to transport goods. Most of the larger containers either came with hover skids attached, or fit onto carts. From there, it was simply a matter of pushing them to their destination. This made transporting them far easier. However, it did not remove the effort it took to do so. The five of them were at it for a few hours. By the time they finished, the sun was notably further along its trek through the sky. Rey hoped they made that time back up in transit, or else this would have all been a waste.

Upon take off, the differences between Han and Ahsoka were obvious. Seated there behind the pilot's seat, Chewbacca in the oversized chair next to him, Han looked natural. But, it was more than that. He looked to be at peace, the same way one might in their favorite chair. In a way, he that's exactly where he was. The way he moved the ship spoke of decades of experience. Not to say Ahsoka was a bad pilot by any means. That would be an untruth. However, Han's command of the craft could not be matched. Something simple as exiting the atmosphere and jumping to hyperspace felt smooth as a dream.

And then they were off, suddenly whisked away to the next part of their grand adventure. Rey secretly wished they had spent more time on Walalla so she could take in the sights, sounds, and people of the planet. She realized, though, the importance of speed. Ahsoka had said she didn't want to spend long on the planet. Much fun as this was, Rey had to remember the harrowing truth of it. They were running from the First Order, a relentless pursuer who would stop at nothing to see all of them dead. In that way, it was good to not dawdle. The more they moved, and the faster, the better. Rey just hoped this breakneck pace didn't come back to bite them later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had to cut this chapter short. I try to hit a minimum of 3000 words per entry, but after a fair deal of writer's block I knew that wasn't going to happen this time. I had a very hard time with these past two chapters because of that self-imposed minimum. Neither really had enough content to reach 3000 words, so I had to stretch them out. It worked pretty well with the last one, but I could tell it was just impossible this time around. Sorry for the short chapter.
> 
> A lot of talking, in this one. I've mentioned before that I don't like dialogue-heavy chapters. I was taught in a very traditional way, one that emphasizes narrative and uses dialogue sparingly, a Dickensian way of doing things. However, I understand that talking isn't necessarily a bad thing. My favorite author, John Steinbeck, made extensive use of dialogue in his work. I also realize modern tastes of changed, to the point now where we see publishings which are really just glorified screenplays. Even though I understand all of this, I'll never be comfortable with dialogue-heavy sections. I hope you all don't mind.
> 
> Please remember to leave a review.


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